rt/o 


GIFT  OF 


University  of  California  •  Berkeley 


cy         /  t\ 

/^-^^i-fu4^^  <^O^L^u  / 


The  Pharisee  and 
the  Publican 


BY 
EDWARD  BOSANKETH 

Author  of  "Tin" 


BROADWAY    PUBLISHING    CO. 

NEW     YORK,     BALTIMORE,     ATLANTA 
IQIO 


COPYRIGHT,  1910, 

BY 
BROADWAY  PUBLISHING  COMPANY. 


TKe  PHarisee  and  tKe  Publican 


CHAPTER  I. 

Standing  at  one  of  the  windows  of  his  cham- 
bers, gazing  meditatively  on  to  the  roof  of  the 
Temple  Church,  was  a  young  man  of  twenty-six, 
who  had  just  been  called  to  the  bar.  He  was  not 
tall,  but  was  well  proportioned  and  of  a  healthy 
hue.  The  room  had  rather  the  appearance  of  a 
living  room  than  an  office,  as  there  was  a  piano, 
and  there  were  curtains  of  heavy  tapestry  at  the 
windows.  One  wall  was  entirely  occupied  by  books 
and  the  others  were  without  pictures,  except  one 
photograph  of  a  college  eleven  and  another  of  a 
Cambridge  social  club.  The  mantelpiece  bore  a 
row  of  "pots"  as  mementos  of  former  athletic 
prowess,  but  was  without  the  conventional  mirror, 
and  the  writing  desk  was  so  neat  that  it  did  not 
seem  "open  for  business."  It  would  have  been  a 
mistake  to  assume  this,  however,  from  the  fact  that 
Frank  East  was  only  just  fledged,  for,  if  there  was 
one  thing  that  he  really  did  believe  in,  it  was  that 


43537-1 


"order  is  heaven's  first  law."  The  room  altogether 
had  an  air  of  elegance  and  comfort,  but  seemed 
to  be  quite  without  those  trifling  additions  for  the 
sake  of  mere  ornament  which  usually  come  from  a 
woman's  hands  and  which  one  does  not  miss  in  the 
chambers  of  a  bachelor. 

Suddenly  a  whirlwind  seemed  to  have  taken  pos- 
session of  the  room  and  a  voice  out  of  the  midst 
of  it  cried :  "So,  there  y*  are  again  gazing  at  noth- 
ing, for  surely  ye  see  nothing  new  on  the  roof  of 
that  old  kirk.  Now,  here  is  something  new,  some- 
thing from  the  new  worrld,  something  that  passes 
for  humor  over  there.  Did  y'  ever  hear  of  Arrte- 
mus  Warrd?  Just  listen  while  I  give  y'  a  little  of 
the  Amairican  accent,"  and  Mr.  Malcolm  McLean 
proceeded  to  read  Artemus  Ward  "Among  the 
Mormons"  in  a  manner  which  he  was  convinced 
was  the  true  Yankee  drawl : 

"Fellerr  citizens  and  fellerr  citizenesses,  I  feel 
truly  glad  to  see  ye  heerr  to-night,  more  especially 
those  who  have  paid." 

"That'll  do,  McLean,"  shouted  East,  "I  know  that 
speech  by  heart,  but  I'm  afraid  I  can't  deliver  it 
with  your  'faine  Amairican  occent.'  Where  did  you 
acquire  that  familiarity  with  the  tongue  of  the 
daown-easter ?  In  Aberdeen?" 

"Ah!  So  I  prepared  this  little  treat  for  ye  all 
for  nothing,  did  I?  I  might  have  spared  myself 
the  trouble  of  getting  cheated,  then." 

"Why,  who  cheated  you  ?     What  do  you  mean  ?" 


auD  tfte  Publican 3 

"I  mean  simply  this,  that  on  a  barrow  of  books 
in  the  street  was  a  larrge  carrd  ohn  which  was 
vairy  apparent  a  figure  2  and  a  small  d,  signifying 
that  two  pence  was  the  price  of  those  books.  Ohn 
the  vairy  tope  was  this  book,  and  the  idea  occurred 
to  me  that  I  would  surprise  ye  with  a  vairitable 
eemiteetion  of  the  writer's  own  worrds,  so  I  ten- 
dered the  man  twopence,  for  I  had  a  mind  to  spend 
that  much  on  ye,  but  the  rascal  pointed  to  the 
carrd  and  showed  me  the  weeest  bit  of  a  marrk 
for  a  ha'penny  that  ye  can  imagine — a  vairitable  at- 
tempt to  obtain  money  by  false  pretenses.  I  re- 
gret now  that  I  fell  into  the  trap,  which  cerrtainly 
I  would  noht  have  done  had  I  noht  the  ulterior 
ohbject  in  view  to  surprise  ye." 

"So  you  got  surprised,  instead,  but  I  am  none  the 
less  so  at  the  manner  of  it.  It  will  be  a  lesson  to 
you." 

Malcolm  McLean  had  been  called  to  the  bar  in 
the  same  term  as  East,  but  lived  in  the  suburbs. 
As  yet  he  had  contented  himself  with  placing  his 
name  on  East's  door,  sharing  with  him  the  use  of 
the  third  room,  which  was  furnished  as  an  office,  but 
really  spending  such  time  as  he  could  spare  from 
his  studies  in  the  library  in  the  sitting  room  of  his 
friend — for,  curious  as  it  may  appear,  these  two 
were  friends.  Their  exterior  was  very  different, 
as  their  course  through  life  had  been,  but  they  both 
looked  at  the  future  from  the  same  standpoint  and 
in  much  the  same  way.  The  Scot  had  all  the  char- 


Cfte 


acteristics  of  his  race  and  was  particularly  careful 
about  drawing  a  right  line  on  all  occasions.  The 
detail  of  its  cutting  across  his  territory  instead  of 
his  opponent's  made  no  difference:  the  line  must 
be  drawn  straight.  But  the  Sassenach,  as  his  friend 
called  him,  was  equally  punctilious,  though  less 
demonstrative.  All  kinds  of  shams  and  frauds  they 
put  far  from  them,  even  the  suave  deceptions  of 
the  most  polished  diplomacy,  and  this  need  not 
surprise  the  uninitiated  for  whom  tricks  and  law- 
yers have  been,  from  time  immemorial,  associated, 
for  it  should  be  equally  possible  for  an  advocate, 
as  for  a  general,  to  fool  the  enemy,  though  he  would 
not  so  treat  his  friend.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  how- 
ever, the  great  legal  game — no  matter  what  may  be 
done  in  small  arenas — is  not  so  played.  Great 
counsel  are  sometimes  great  actors,  but  they  are  in- 
variably great  men. 

Again  McLean  was  possessed  by  a  sudden  im- 
pulse, and,  making  a  dive  for  a  bundle  of  papers 
lying  on  the  desk,  he  exclaimed :  "Hello !  East, 
what  have  ye  heerr?  A  brief?  Upohn  my  worrd, 
it  is  a  brief!" 

"Well,  it  is  and  it  is  not.  It  is  a  deed  of  dis- 
entail sent  me  to  peruse,  but  it  is  very  like  perusing 
my  own  death-warrant." 

"So  your  father  wants  to  disentail  ye,  does  he? 
Well,  I  can  answerr  for  ye  that  he  won't." 

"Oh,  yes,  I  know  well  enough  what  would  be 
your  answer,  but  I  am  not  sure  what  mine  will  be." 


tfjc  pu&licatt 


"I  am :  ye'll  noht  mak'  a  fule  o'  yourself"— Mac's 
accent  got  a  little  worse  when  he  became  emphatic 
— "I've  seen  ye  before  when  ye  didn't  know  your 
own  mind,  but  if  I  was  by  ye,  ye  very  soon  found 
it  out." 

"Your  father  is  dead,  McLean,  whilst  mine  is 
not  only  alive  but  in  a  hole,  and  I  shall  help  him 
out,  if  I  can,  but  I  shall  take  time  to  think  before 
I  act." 

"Ye  may  well  say  that  my  father  is  dead.  In- 
deed he  is,  and  I  vainerate  his  memory  as  that  of 
an  unnatural  parent." 

"What!  When  it  is  with  his  guineas  that  you 
pay  your  tailor  to-day?" 

"No,  sir,  I  pay  my  tailor,  when  I  indulge  in  new 
garments,  with  my  own  guineas,  few  as  they  are, 
and  fewer  than  they  should  have  been  had  he  noht 
married  one  o'  your  Sassenach  hussies  when  he 
was  old  enough  to  know  better,  and  to  whom  he 
gave  what  was  rightfully  mine,  sir." 

"So  I  have  heard  you  say  before,  Mac,  and  I 
think  you'll  believe  it  yourself  some  day." 

"Well,  never  mind  me,  East,  ye'll  not  do  this 
thing,  will  ye?  I  have  worrk  in  the  library  to  do 
that  I  must  be  at,  but  I  shall  naiver  do  it  while  I 
have  this  ohn  my  mind  and  think  that  I  leave  ye 
heerr  studying  out  a  prohblem  that  ye're  already 
biased  about.  Prohmise  me  this,  that  ye'll  do  noth- 
ing till  I  have  time  to  talk  to  ye." 


Cfte 


"It  is  refreshing  to  hear  you  advise  deliberation. 
Perhaps  you'll  learn  to  deliberate  some  day,  but  I 
haven't  detected  any  signs  of  the  effort  becoming 
a  habit  yet.  As  for  me,  I  know  my  weakness,  too. 
If  I  could  make  up  my  mind  with  a  little  more 
promptitude  I  shouldn't  miss  so  many  opportuni- 
ties to  outwit  the  Scotch.  At  present  I  don't 
think  I  shall  sign  that  deed.  I  shall  have  to  be 
cruel  to  be  kind." 

"Now  ye're  talking  more  like  a  Scot.  I  think  I 
can  safely  leave  ye  for  an  hour  or  two." 

McLean  betook  himself  to  the  library  where  he 
spent  most  of  his  time.  He  was  forever  delving 
among  commentaries  and  reports  and  making  vol- 
uminous-notes, the  purpose  of  which  never  trans- 
pired, but  it  was,  at  any  rate,  useful  to  be  able  to 
locate  him  somewhere  when  so  many  men  at  the 
threshold  of  their  profession  were  very  much  harder 
to  find. 

East,  left  to  himself,  began  to  turn  over  in  his 
mind  the  arguments  that  should  sway  his  action. 
He  had  the  kindest  of  fathers,  who  had  turned 
many  a  sharp  corner  that  his  son  should  be  launched 
on  a  great,  career  in  the  most  approved  fashion 
without  a  trace  of  anxiety  for  the  future  to  cloud 
his  outlook,  but  fate  had  been  harder  with  him 
day  by  day.  The  mines  from  which  he  had  once 
drawn  a  comfortable  and  steady  income,  owing 
to  the  discovery  of  tin  in  Australia  lowering  the 
price,  no  longer  paid  the  expenses  of  working,  and 


antrtfie  publican 


by  degrees  all  his  available  property  had  been  mort- 
gaged to  pay  calls  on  his  shares.  Now  there  was 
nothing  left  but  what  had  been  entailed  on  Frank, 
and  it  seemed  that  that  must  be  so  freed  that  he 
could  mortgage  it,  or  he  must  relinquish  his  shares 
for  unpaid  calls,  for  they  were  no  longer  salable. 
This,  however,  he  would  never  for  a  moment  have 
thought  of  doing  but  that  he  believed  as  firmly  as 
he  did  in  the  coming  millennium  that  Cornwall  was 
bound  to  recover  its  prestige  in  the  mining  world 
and  that  Australia  would  soon  be  beaten  to  a  stand- 
still. It  is  usually  the  young  who  are  sanguine,  the 
mature  who  are  wise,  and  the  old  who  are  pessi- 
mistic, but  in  this  instance  it  was  the  son  who  was 
the  soul  of  caution.  He  did  not  believe  that  the 
price  of  tin  would  ever  recover  itself,  as  the  sup- 
ply seemed  to  have  overtaken  the  demand,  and  there 
was  no  hope  for  Cornwall  in  competition  with 
Australia  because  the  mineral  was  found  at  no 
great  depth,  and  could  be  sent  home  to  London  as 
ballast  in  the  wool  ships.  Frank  had  made  up 
his  mind  that  there  was  nothing  to  be  hoped  from 
the  future,  and  the  only  question  was  whether  he 
could  do  so  little  for  one  who  had  done  for  him 
so  much.  He  brooded  on  the  matter  all  day,  list- 
ened to  a  great  deal  more  advice  from  McLean 
when  he  had  finished  the  "worrk"  he  had  to  do  in 
the  library,  and  finally  made  up  his  mind  and  wrote 
his  father  the  following  letter  : 


8 Cfte  ptmrfeee 

"My  DEAR  FATHER  :  It  is  very  painful  for  me 
at  the  outset  of  my  career,  when  it  is  entirely  to 
you  that  I  owe  the  fact  that  I,  instead  of  you — • 
who  would  have  been  far  more  fit  to  do  so — 'have 
an  opportunity  to  devote  myself  to  the  profession 
which  opens  so  many  avenues  to  distinction,  to 
have  to  refuse  the  only  request  you  ever  made  me, 
but  you  already  know  my  reason.  You  know  that 
I  do  not  believe  in  the  future  of  Cornish  mining 
and  that  I  fear  even  worse  things  if  you  continue 
to  hold  your  shares.  You  are  on  the  horns  of  a 
dilemma :  either  way  points  to  ruin.  If  you  relin- 
quish your  shares  you  throw  away  all  chance  of 
income  from  them,  but  if  you  hold  on  to  them  you 
will  certainly  throw  away  whatever  money  you  can 
scrape  together  after  what  has  gone  before.  This 
being  my  conviction,  I  have  determined  to  hold 
on  to  Tremayne,  not  for  myself,  but  for  you,  so 
that  the  family  may  be  held  together  when  the  in- 
evitable smash  comes.  I  had  no  suspicion  it  was 
so  near,  but  you  know  I  have  anticipated  it.  I  have 
no  heart  to  dwell  lightly  on  other  subjects  in  this 
same  letter,  so  I  will  close  at  once,  with  the  hope 
that  you  will  be  able  to  see  this  thing  in  the  same 
light  as  I  do,  though  I  can  hardly  expect  that  you 
will.  Some  day,  however,  you  will  appreciate  how 
hard  it  was  for  me  to  be  cruel  to  be  kind.  Your 
loving  son,  FRANK." 


ant)  tl)t  publican 


CHAPTER  II. 

East  and  McLean  had  already  joined  the  West- 
ern Circuit,  and  it  became  necessary,  after  the  in- 
cident recorded  in  the  first  chapter,  to  hold  a  coun- 
cil of  war  as  to  the  advisability  of  undertaking 
the  campaign.  It  is  an  expensive  luxury  to  "go 
circuit"  for  most  men,  and  unless  there  is  a  pros- 
pect of  briefs  it  is  not  an  advisable  thing  to  do. 
One  thing,  however,  was  certain:  there  was  no 
prospect  of  any  briefs  in  London,  and,  if  there 
were  any  to  be  had  anywhere,  it  was  only  in  the 
country  that  they  would  be  found.  East  had  enough 
left  of  the  last  installment  of  his  allowance  to  make 
the  trip,  and  he  thought  he  had  better  use  it  to 
give  himself  a  chance  than  show  the  white  feather 
at  the  outset.  McLean,  though  he  grumbled  at  the 
paltry  pittance  the  Fates  had  allowed  him,  had 
enough  to  provide  for  his  temperate  wants  for  some 
years,  if  need  be,  as  indeed  East  had,  if  he  would 
only  use  what  was  rightfully  his  own,  but  which 
he  had  determined  to  sacrifice  as  a  justification  of 
the  stand  he  had  taken  in  reference  to  his  father's 
position.  To  McLean  it  was  a  matter  of  indiffer- 
ence where  they  joined  the  mess  as  he  was  entirety 


10 


without  connections  anywhere.  His  home  was 
Aberdeen  and  why  he  ever  left  there  he  never 
vouchsafed  to  explain  to  anybody,  but  it  was  prob- 
ably for  the  same  reason  as  most  men  go  to  the 
bar:  because  it  is  the  most  powerful  and  most  hon- 
ored profession  in  the  world,  and  they  want  to 
be  members  of  it.  Their  fitness,  of  course,  goes 
without  saying.  McLean  was  probably  just  as  un- 
conscious of  his  need  of  equipment  as  he  was  of 
his  accent.  As  the  choice  was  left  to  East  it  was 
determined  to  go  first  to  the  town  where  he  was 
at  school,  not  in  the  anticipation  of  business,  but 
that  they  might  become  au  fait  with  circuit  cus- 
toms before  going  to  the  Cornish  county  seat, 
which  was  the  next  place  and  the  only  one  where 
any  work  could  be  hoped  for  at  this  stage.  But 
it  is  not  only  true  that  "the  best  concerted  schemes 
are  vain";  the  converse  is  equally  so:  we  often 
succeed  most  unexpectedly  when  we  have  had  lit- 
tle or  nothing  to  do  with  the  concerting.  It  was 
so  with  McLean,  for  in  a  foreign  land  and  at  the 
very  first  place  in  his  very  first  year  an  opportunity 
was  afforded  him  to  fight  the  battle  of  his  accent 
before  an  audience  that  had  never  heard  the  like 
before.  A  man  from  the  northern  circuit  had  been 
engaged  to  defend  in  a  murder  case,  and  it  was 
the  custom  of  the  circuit  that  the  junior  member 
present  at  that  place  must  be  employed  to  assist 
him.  There  was  no  one  there  who  had  joined 
after  East  and  McLean,  and,  of  the  two,  McLean 


anD  tfte  Publican 


was  the  junior,  for  he  had  signed  after  his  friend, 
so  the  five  guineas  were  his,  and  it  was  he  who 
would  be  called  upon  to  open  the  defense  in  court. 
It  was  a  pity  there  was  no  library  to  which  he 
could  retire,  but  he  did  the  best  he  could  by  shut- 
ting himself  up  in  his  lodgings  for  the  careful  study 
of  his  precious  brief,  although  the  part  he  would 
have  to  play  would  merely  be  of  the  most  per- 
functory character,  the  whole  weight  of  the  de- 
fense really  resting  on  the  shoulders  of  the  man 
who  was  great  enough  to  be  called  from  another 
circuit  to  do  the  work.  Still,  there  was  no  know- 
ing what  would  happen,  and  McLean  never  lost  a 
chance  to  be  prepared. 

The  crime  which  McLean  had  been  suddenly 
called  upon  to  defend  was  committed  by  the  male 
member  of  a  disreputable  old  couple,  both  blind  and 
both  frequently  drunk.  The  two  usually  gathered 
alms  in  company,  but  on  this  occasion  they  had  by 
some  means  become  separated,  and  the  old  man 
had  returned  to  their  home  alone.  After  a  while 
the  wife  followed,  and  it  was  alleged  that  her  hus- 
band had  thrown  her  down,  or  that  she  had  herself 
fallen,  and  he  had  jumped  on  her  chest  until  all 
her  ribs  were  broken  and  her  heart  had  ceased  to 
beat.  It  was  not  a  case  that  anybody  would  wish 
to  defend,  and  here  it  may  perhaps  be  not  alto- 
gether out  of  place  to  interpolate  .a  few  words  on 
criminal  defense  which  he  who  runs  may  read,  and 
he  who  doesn't  wish  to  may  skip  instead. 


12 Cfre  pimtfcee' 

It  is  a  common  practice  of  some  ignorant  and 
irresponsible  people  to  condemn  the  advocate  who 
takes  up  the  defense  of  an  undeniably  guilty  per- 
son, as  if  he  were  "an  accessory  after  the  fact,5' 
entirely  overlooking  the  circumstance  that  it  is  a 
part  of  not  only  the  merciful,  but  the  just,  procedure 
of  our  criminal  courts  to  require  that  both  sides 
of  every  case  be  presented  by  counsel.  It  is  some- 
body's duty  to  defend  the  criminal  and  public  opin- 
ion should  uphold  the  man  who  does,  and  not  be 
misled  by  the  inconsequent  utterances  of  one  who, 
as  the  American  slang  expressively  puts  it,  is  "talk- 
ing through  his  hat."  Not  only  so,  but  surely  the 
most  honorable  and  the  most  enviable  position  is 
that  of  the  man  whose  prerogative  it  is  to  ask  for 
mercy  for  the  poor  guilty  wretch  rather  than  that 
of  the  man  whose  duty  is,  as  it  were,  to  drive  in 
the  dagger  up  to  the  hilt.  There  is  a  distinct  dif- 
ference, however,  in  the  manner  of  conducting  a 
criminal  trial  in  two  of  the  countries  where  the 
English  common  law  prevails.  In  one  both  prose- 
cution and  defense  use  their  utmost  endeavors  to 
win  by  fair  means  or  foul,  while  in  the  other  the 
prosecution  offers  a  mere  unadorned  statement  of 
the  naked  facts,  giving  the  defense  the  advantage 
of  all  the  rhetoric  it  can  bring  to  its  aid.  In  one 
bought  juries  and  lying  witnesses  are  the  com- 
monest weapons  used,  while  in  the  other  juries  can- 
not be  bought,  and  if  counsel  found  one  of  his 
witnesses  to  be  lying  he  would  immediately  throw 


attD  tfte  Publican 13 

up  his  brief.  This  brings  to  the  front  another 
point  of  view.  By  the  profession  itself  a  case  is 
looked  upon  as  a  great  game  in  which  the  best 
player  will  win.  The  rules  are  rigidly  adhered  to, 
and  skill  has  every  opportunity  to  count  for  its 
full  worth.  There  is  no  fear  that  it  will  be  check- 
mated by  cheating.  But  this  high  standard  of 
honor  can  only  be  maintained  where  the  legal  pro- 
fession is  divided  into  two  parts.  A  man  who  has 
to  interview  criminals  and  haggle  for  fees  cannot 
be  expected  to  reach  the  level  of  one  to  whom  fees 
are  merely  incidental  and  who  never  comes  in  con- 
tact with  business  "methods"  or  plain  crime,  ex- 
cept as  a  bacteriologist  comes  into  contact  with  dis- 
ease— through  the  medium  of  a  microscope.  The 
barrister  reads  of  crime  in  his  brief  and  in  the 
pages  of  a  novel,  but  he  comes  no  nearer  to  it  than 
when  he  cross-examines  the  criminal's  accomplices 
across  the  well  of  a  court,  whereas  the  attorney  in 
the  country  where  there  is  no  bar,  stands  shoulder 
to  shoulder  with  a  brother  criminal  and  bandies 
words  with  him  at  his  side. 

It  may  appear  strange  that  a  poor  old  blind 
beggar  should  be  able  to  secure  the  services  of  one 
of  the  greatest  advocates  of  the  day,  but,  though 
professional  skill  commands  a  high  price  when  it 
commands  any,  it  is  often  to  be  had  for  quite  other 
reasons.  There  are  within  the  ranks  of  the  legal 
fraternity  men  who  are  ever  as  ready  to  come  to 
the  assistance  of  the  unfortunate  as  there  are  physi- 


14 Cfic  Pimtteee 

cians  of  eminence  ready  to  minister  to  the  pauper 
sick.  Sometimes  a  friend  will  secure  their  aid  for 
a  relative  of  an  attached  servant,  and  again  it  may 
be  a  merely  cheerfully  rendered  service  at  the  re- 
quest of  the  judge.  The  offer  of  assistance,  how- 
ever, in  one  of  the  countries  referred  to,  is  unpro- 
fessional, though  not  in  the  other  where  the  prac- 
tice of  the  law  is  a  business,  and  properly  so-called. 
The  cold-blooded  American  dollar  hunter  will  say 
that  all  this  is  nonsense,  that  the  practice  of  law  or 
medicine  is  just  as  much  a  business  as  the  prac- 
tice of  buying  and  selling  shares,  or  sugar,  and  we 
have  no  reason  to  quarrel  with  his  point  of  view, 
but  chivalry  has  not  yet  passed  out  of  existence, 
and  it  is  necessary  to  be  a  member  of  a  high  and 
honorable  profession  to  understand  just  how  high 
and  honorable  it  can  be.  In  a  country  which  has 
no  history  and  no  traditions  there  can  be  no  cus- 
toms and  no  standards.  Everything  is  temporary, 
stability  is  unknown,  and  there  is  a  contemptuous 
disregard  for  whatever  cannot  be  measured  by  a 
yardstick. 


anO  tfre  Pii&lican  15 


CHAPTER  III. 

The  wisdom  of  McLean's  careful  study  of  his 
brief  was  apparent  the  next  morning,  for  a  tele- 
gram arrived  from  his  leader  to  the  solicitor  for 
the  defense  announcing  that  owing  to  domestic  af- 
fliction he  would  be  unable  to  leave  home  and  the 
case  would  have  to  proceed  without  him.  This,  of 
course,  led  to  a  consultation  with  the  junior  and 
the  decision  to  ask  the  judge  to  let  the  case  go  over 
until  the  next  term.  In  the  event  of  his  refusal 
there  was  no  other  course  open  than  that  McLean 
should  have  entire  charge  of  the  defense.  This  by 
no  means  disconcerted  that  confident  Scot.  He 
merely  thought  that  his  opportunity  had  arrived. 

On  application  being  made  to  the  judge  for  de- 
lay the  anticipated  happened.  His  reply  was  simply 
that  the  course  of  justice  could  not  in  any  way  be 
affected  by  any  mischance  which  might  befall  coun- 
sel, however  regrettable  the  incident  might  be.  He 
was  sure  that  the  defense  would  be  quite  adequately 
taken  care  of  by  the  other  counsel  engaged.  This 
was  simply  in  accordance  with  the  invariable  cus- 
tom. The  public  time  is  not  subordinated  to  the 
convenience  or  even  the  misfortune  of  the  bar.  If 


16 Cfte 

one  man  cannot  attend  to  his  work,  somebody  else 
can,  and  so  the  wheels  of  justice  grind  on. 

When  the  case  came  up  McLean  took  his  part 
with  entire  confidence,  and  cross-examined  wit- 
nesses with  great  spirit.  It  was  evident  that  he 
felt  himself  to  be  in  his  element  and  was  bent  on 
making  a  record,  but  it  was  a  painful  time  for  the 
spectators,  most  of  whom  were  impressed  by  the 
solemnity  of  a  murder  trial,  only  the  members  of 
the  bar,  however,  appreciating  the  ludicrousness  of 
the  situation.  To  the  "man  in  the  street"  the  ac- 
cent was  all  that  was  amusing,  but  to  the  profes- 
sion it  was  pitiful  to  see  how  a  really  easy  defense 
was  being  mangled.  There  was  certainly  a  strong 
probability  that  the  prisoner  was  guilty,  but  no- 
body saw  the  deed  committed,  in  this  case  not  even 
the  perpetrator  himself.  The  woman  was  certainly 
dead,  and  there  was  not  a  rib  in  her  body  that 
was  not  broken,  but  it  would  have  to  be  a  very 
hardy  medical  man  that  would  be  ready  to  swear 
that  this  was  the  result  of  her  being  jumped  upon 
by  the  boots  of  the  prisoner.  Might  she  not  have 
fallen  forward  on  to  the  corner  of  the  fender  or 
the  bed,  or  might  not  any  other  ingenious  supposi- 
tion of  counsel  have  accounted  for  her  death?  The 
medical  testimony,  which  was  all  that  there  was 
to  fight,  might  be  assailed  in  various  ways,  but 
none  of  these  things  occurred  to  McLean.  He  sol- 
emnly asked  the  doctor: 


and  the  Pu6ltom 


"Hoo  mainy  inches  was  the  bed  from  the  wall?" 
and  the  witness  replied  : 

"A  foot  or  fourteen  inches,  I  should  say." 
"D'ye  say  a  fute  or  forrteen  inches?" 
"Oh,  I  don't  know.     It  was  about  that." 
"About  what,  sir?     Forrteen  inches  or  a  fute?" 
"Well,  say  a  foot,  if  you  like.     I  don't  know." 
"Now,  be  careful,  sir.     Is  it  a  fute  ye  say?" 
Here  the  judge  interposed  : 
"I  am  loth  to  interfere  with  counsel  at  all  times, 
and  I  don't  know  what  your  theory  of  defense  may 
be,  Mr.  McLean,  but  I  would  suggest  that  the  wit- 
ness has  answered  you  as  well  as  he  is  able.     I  don't 
suppose  he  carried  a  tape  measure  in  his  pocket,  or, 
if  he  did,  his  attention  was  no  doubt  centered  on 
the  woman." 

"Very  well,  my  lord,"  said  the  unabashed  Mc- 
Lean, "I  will  try  him  with  something  else. 
"Cozweed  peevmint?" 
"I  didn't  catch  that." 
"Cozweed  peevmint,  I  said,  sir." 
"Really,  I  am  afraid  I  don't  understand." 
Again  the  judge  came  to  the  rescue,  and  to  the 
witness  he  said,  "I  think  counsel  wants  to  know  if 
there  was  a  causeway  outside  the  house  —  not,  I 
presume,  within  a  foot  or  fourteen  inches  of  the 
bed." 

The  suggestion  no  doubt  was  that  the  old  woman 
had  fallen  on  the  pavement,  broken  all  her  ribs,  and 
dragged  herself  upstairs  afterward,  but  why  the 


Cfte 


doctor  should  be  the  witness  asked  about  the  con- 
dition of  the  street  was  not  apparent. 

A  skilful  defender  will  have  a  theory  of  defense 
and  will  only  cross-examine  those  witnesses  which 
bear  on  it,  in  this  case  the  theory  naturally  being 
that  the  old  woman  had  fallen  forward  with  her 
whole  weight  on  to  some  projection,  striking  her 
sternum,  or  breastbone,  crushing  it  inward,  and  so 
forcing  the  ribs  to  be  fractured  outward,  just  as 
would  have  been  the  case  if  her  husband  had  ac- 
tually jumped  on  her  chest,  as  alleged.  But  Mc- 
Lean had  no  theory,  and  cross-examined  all  wit- 
nesses indiscriminately,  worrying  them  about  cir- 
cumstances of  which  they  could  not  have  any  knowl- 
edge and  transgressing  the  laws  of  evidence  at 
nearly  every  venture,  the  last  proceeding  bringing 
him  into  frequent  conflict  with  the  judge.  This 
made  the  bar  very  uncomfortable,  and  great  re- 
lief was  felt  when  the  last  irritated  witness,  with 
feelings  bruised  and  mangled,  left  the  box.  Mc- 
Lean's speech  to  the  jury  might  have  been  deliv- 
ered in  Coptic  for  all  they  could  understand  of 
it,  but  the  slow  emphasis  with  which  the  perora- 
tion was  rendered  enabled  them,  as  well  as  the 
other  auditors,  to  comprehend  that  Mr.  McLean  was 
endeavoring  to  impress  upon  them  the  affectionate 
character  of  the  accused,  who,  "wham  endaivoring 
to  raise  mohney  for  the  defainse  refused  to  sail 
the  old  dohg  Tray." 

The  greatest  protection  to  a  prisoner  often  lies 


anD  tfte  puBHcan 


in  the  fact  that  a  weak  defense  is  followed  by  an 
able  summing-up  by  a  clear-minded  and  experi- 
enced judge.  In  this  case  Mr.  Justice  Bounty  care- 
fully pointed  out  to  the  jury  that  the  case  against 
the  accused  turned  entirely  on  the  question  whether 
it  was  possible  that  the  deceased  came  to  her  death 
by  accident.  The  medical  witness  on  whose  evi- 
dence this  matter  rested  had  not  been  asked  spe- 
cifically if  such  a  thing  was  possible,  and  he  him- 
self had  been  loth  to  do  it  for  the  reason  that  so 
much  might  depend  upon  the  answer,  and  that 
answer  might  in  the  ultimate  depend  upon  the 
character  of  the  witness.  There  were  some 
things  on  which  a  medical  witness  was  com- 
petent to  speak  to  the  exclusion  of  the  mere 
layman  —  on  the  question  of  the  microscopical 
examination  of  blood,  for  instance  —  but  there 
were  others  on  which  medical  opinion,  although 
dealing  with  subjects  in  its  own  domain,  was 
hardly  any  more  valuable  than  unskilled  opin- 
ion. Most  educated  people  nowadays  knew  the 
relation  of  the  bones  of  the  thorax  to  one  another 
and  also  knew  that  the  bones  of  the  aged  were  brit- 
tle; consequently  a  layman  was  just  as  competent 
as  a  surgeon  to  form  an  opinion  on  the  question 
whether  a  fall  forward  on  to  the  corner  of  a  fender 
would  be  sufficient  to  snap  all  the  ribs  at  once.  A 
cautious  and  prudent  surgeon  might  well  hesitate 
to  answer  the  question,  but  a  confident  and  more  or 
less  ignorant  one  would  no  doubt  speak  with  the  as- 


20 C6e  Pimrisee 

surance  of  an  oracle.  For  this  reason  he  had  hesi- 
tated to  put  the  question.  A  negative  answer 
would  undoubtedly  have  prejudiced  the  prisoner 
in  the  eyes  of  the  jury,  while  a  hesitating  one  would 
not  have  bettered  the  prisoner's  position,  and  a  con- 
fident declaration  that  the  woman's  own  fall,  or  her 
husband's  accidental  fall  upon  her,  might  have 
caused  such  a  rupture,  could  hardly  have  been  ex- 
pected from  a  witness  for  the  prosecution.  Under 
the  circumstances  he  had  thought  it  better  to  let 
the  matter  pass,  point  it  out  to  the  jury,  and  let 
them  give  it  the  weight  to  which  they  thought  it 
entitled. 

The  jury  left  the  box  to  deliberate  on  their  ver- 
dict, and  during  their  absence  the  prisoner  was  nat- 
urally the  object  of  curiosity,  and  seldom  was  it 
better  deserved.  The  accused  was  considerably 
over  seventy  years  of  age,  and  in  appearance  was 
more  venerable  than  Mr.  Justice  Blount  himself. 
His  forehead  was  high  and  shapely,  his  features 
regular,  and  his  long  white  hair  and  snowy  beard 
gave  him  the  appearance  of  a  patriarch.  Yet  his 
history  showed  him  to  be  a  drunken,  quarrelsome 
old  vagabond.  The  spectators  gazed  on  him  with 
wonder,  but  not  with  more  wonder  than  they  did 
on  the  foreman  of  the  jury  on  his  return,  who,  in 
answer  to  the  accustomed  question,  responded, 
"We  find  the  prisoner  not  guilty."  The  judge  re- 
reived  the  verdict  without  remark,  and  merely  wrote 


anD  tfte  Pufiltom 21 

the  two  words  in  his  notes  and  left  the  bench,  this 
being  the  last  case  for  the  day. 

It  was  impossible  to  get  the  case  threshed  out 
at  the  mess  that  evening,  as  "the  learned  counsel 
for  the  defense"  was  present  and  in  great  feather, 
especially  as,  before  they  left  the  court  the  mem- 
bers of  the  jury  had  taken  it  upon  them  to  cross 
over  and  shake  him  by  the  hand,  and  condole  with 
him  for  the  rough  treatment  he  had  received  from 
the  judge.  So  it  goes  in  this  world.  Consolation 
and  applause  oftener  come  to  those  who  appreciate 
them  than  to  those  who  deserve  them. 

Frank's  feelings  may  be  imagined  by  those  who 
have  stood  and  watched  the  tide  of  fortune  at  the 
flood  sweep  up  and  pass  them  by,  leaving  them 
alone  and  untouched  on  an  isolated  little  rock.  Here 
was  a  man  who  was  his  junior  from  the  mere  cir- 
cumstance that  he  had  signed  the  roll  in  the  Lord 
Chief  Justice's  court  immediately  after  him,  and 
for  that  reason  a  great  opportunity  had  come  to 
him,  and  been  wasted.  No  solicitor  on  that  cir- 
cuit would  ever  give  McLean  a  brief  after  the  ex- 
hibition he  had  made  of  himself,  notwithstanding 
the  fact  that  the  jury  had  given  a  verdict  in  his 
favor,  their  action  largely  influenced  by  sympathy 
with  one  whom  they  imagined  hardly  used  by  a 
judge  whose  patience  was  tried  beyond  endurance 
by  ignorance  and  incompetence  which  was  to  them 
no  more  than  fervour  in  his  client's  behalf,  and  it 
seemed  very  hard  that  the  Fates  should  pass  by 


22 Cfte 

one  who  felt  that,  though  he  might  not  win  a  ver- 
dict, he  would  have  shown  qualities  which  would 
have  marked  him  out  for  service  in  the  future.  He 
knew  that  there  were  men  who  painfully  struggled 
with  the  laws  of  evidence  to  the  end  of  their  ca- 
reers, while  there  were  others  who,  without  ever 
reading  a  word  on  the  subject,  instinctively  fell  into 
their  spirit  and  from  the  first  never  had  any  diffi- 
culty with  them.  A  tone  of  fairness  pervades  them 
and  a  man  with  a  fair  mind  naturally  heeds  them, 
while  a  blunderer,  whose  rule  is  the  letter  and  not 
the  spirit,  never  appreciates  their  appropriateness 
and  the  ease  with  which  transgressions  of  them 
may  be  avoided. 

East  and  McLean  were  friends,  yes,  but  Frank 
had  never  imagined  for  a  moment  that  they  ever 
could  become  rivals.  They  had  been  thrown  to- 
gether by  the  circumstance  that  McLean  had  needed 
a  door  for  his  name  until  his  practice  should  de- 
velop sufficiently  to  warrant  his  taking  chambers 
for  himself,  but  Frank  had  become  interested  in 
him  as  a  curiosity,  and  had  found  him  to  be  hu- 
morous, absolutely  honest  and  fearless,  and  not 
without  a  considerable  share  of  worldly  wisdom, 
but  he  saw  clearly  that,  even  disregarding  his  ac- 
cent, he  was  quite  out  of  place  at  the  bar.  He  ex- 
pected him  to  hang  on  for  a  time  with  despera- 
tion, but  eventually  to  find  his  way  to  some  colony 
where  the  Scotch  were  in  force,  or  drift  into  other 


anD 


pursuits.  That  he  should  be  deprived  by  him  of 
so  favorable  an  opportunity  to  let  the  circuit  know 
his  quality,  just  when  he  needed  it  in  a  very  special 
manner,  he  did  not  expect.  Under  such  circum- 
stances it  is  difficult  not  to  transfer  some  of  the 
consequences  of  the  chagrin  to  the  unconscious  ve- 
hicle of  the  misfortune  and  it  would  not  have  been 
surprising  if  a  coldness  had  sprung  up  between 
East  and  McLean,  but  these  were  two  exceptional 
spirits,  the  former  a  young  philosopher  who  had 
been  much  influenced  both  by  Seneca  and  by  Scho- 
penhauer and  the  latter  the  most  unsentimental  of 
an  unsentimental  nation.  His  attitude  toward  his 
deceased  parent  was  a  sufficient  indication  of  the 
sort  of  regard  he  would  have  for  the  living.  His 
friesd  continued  to  be  his  friend  until  he  played 
him  a  dirty  trick,  when  he  immediately  ceased  to  be 
his  friend  forever  and  a  day.  He  forgave  nobody 
and  never  expected  to  be  forgiven. 

Consequently  the  two  lodged  together,  ate  to- 
gether, and  moved  to  the  next  town  together  in 
perfect  harmony,  each  chaffing  the  other  on  the 
outcome.  It  was  impossible,  however,  that  all  could 
travel  in  one  compartment  of  the  train  and  in  that 
one  where  the  friends  were  not  there  was  noticeable 
hilarity.  Mr.  Diamond  was  entertaining  the  other 
members  of  the  circuit  with  an  imitation  of  Mc- 
Lean's cross-examination  of  the  doctor  and  address 
to  the  jury.  For  years  afterward  this  was  one  of 


24 


his  "set  pieces"  for  production  at  after-dinner  en- 
tertainments and  suchlike  gatherings  of  the  bar, 
and  "D'ye  say  a  fute  or  forrteen  inches  ?"  was  requi- 
sitioned on  every  possible  occasion  when  the  learned 
gentlemen  were  in  light  mood. 


anD  tfie  publican 


CHAPTER  IV. 

It  will  be  remembered  that  the  home  county 
was  the  only  one  in  which  Frank  could  hope  for 
work  on  his  first  circuit.  He  knew  nearly  all  the 
solicitors  and  he  thought  it  possible  that  some  one 
or  more  of  them  might  recall  their  promises  made 
to  him  in  early  days,  while  others  might  not  alto- 
gether forget  their  old  schoolfellow.  There  was, 
however,  a  rule  to  which  he  would  be  loyal.  No 
barrister  on  circuit  may  stay  at  the  same  hotel  as 
the  solicitors,  nor  may  he  fraternize  with  them  in 
any  way;  that  is  to  say,  there  may  not  be  even  the 
appearance  of  "touting."  McLean,  on  the  other 
hand,  would  no  doubt  follow  the  instincts  of  his 
worldly  wise  unsentimental  nature  and  respect  this 
rule  or  abuse  it  at  his  pleasure.  Consequently  it 
was  not  altogether  surprising  that  the  experience 
he  had  had  at  the  last  town  should  be  repeated. 
Again  he  had  a  brief,  while  East  was  still  without 
one.  The  fact  is  thai-  his  reputation,  reflected  in 
the  press  from  the  point  of  view  of  the  jury  and 
the  people,  had  preceded  him,  and  one  solicitor, 
who  knew  nobody,  being  in  want  of  a  junior  in  a 
small  criminal  matter,  determined,  as  he  said,  to 


26 Cfre 

"play  the  winner."  Another,  an  old  friend,  passed 
East  on  the  street,  but  as  he  had  apparently  been 
forgotten  by  that  young  man,  "who  held  his  head 
so  high,"  he  gave  the  two  briefs  he  had  intended 
for  him  to  another  man.  These  were  the  perfectly 
natural  results  of  the  courses  followed,  but  we  are 
all  apt  to  go  astray  in  our  thinking  as  a  result  of 
what  we  are  led  to  believe  in  our  youth.  Principles 
of  honor  and  loyalty  are  inculcated  in  the  hope  of 
an  adequate  reward,  and  "honesty  is  the  best  policy" 
we  are  taught  concurrently  with  the  process  of  copy- 
ing "all  the  letters  in  a  big  round  hand,"  but  the 
nature  of  the  reward  is  not  expatiated  upon.  The 
only  one  which  appeals  to  our  imagination  at  that 
time  is  associated  with  purple  and  fine  linen,  and  so 
we  grow  up  with  the  idea  that  if  we  will  be  good 
we  shall  be  happy  and  own  the  earth.  Later  on,  if 
we  are  good — which,  of  course,  we  are — we  rather 
find  that  we  have  to  pay  for  the  privilege,  and  the 
competitor  gets  the  purple  and  fine  linen  with  the 
accessories.  Then  by  degrees  we  begin  to  realize 
that  if  we  want  to  be  wealthy  it  does  not  pay  to 
be  good.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  we  would  rather 
lay  ourselves  down  to  sleep  each  night  in  the  calm 
assurance  that  we  have  robbed  no  neighbor's  hen- 
roost that  day,  we  shall  continue  to  be  good.  While 
we  have  been  adding  to  our  inches  we  have  in- 
creased our  chances  for  unhappiness  by  the  devel- 
opment of  a  conscience,  and  we  must  bear  the  con- 
sequences, take  up  our  cross,  stay  poor,  and  draw 


anD  tfte  publican 27 

the  attention  of  the  public  to  the  enormity  of  the 
other  fellow's  rascality.  If  perchance,  however,  a 
conscience  would  not  grow  in  the  arid  soil  of  our 
stomach,  all  we  have  to  do  is  to  turn  over  a  new 
leaf  and  paint  it  red  with  the  blood  of  the  inno- 
cents. They  are  being  offered  up  every  day  on  the 
altar  of  mammon,  and  there  are  two  other  parties 
present  at  the  sacrifice — the  priests  and  the  crowd. 
Not  everybody  can  be  a  priest,  but  we  need  never 
despair  if  we  will  only  lighten  ourselves  of  our 
baggage  early  enough. 

McLean's  case,  much  to  the  relief  of  the  judge 
and  the  disappointment  of  the  younger  members 
of  the  bar,  came  to  an  abrupt  termination  by  the 
prisoner  pleading  guilty,  which  was  rather  a  set- 
back for  the  redoubtable  Scot,  who  confidently  ex- 
pected to  score  another  triumph.  The  accused  had 
given  no  previous  indications  of  such  an  inten- 
tion, and  if  any  knowledge  of  the  tower  of  strength 
on  which  he  might  have  leaned  could  have  reached 
him  in  his  dungeon,  he  surely  would  not  have  thrown 
away  his  chances  in  that  reckless  fashion,  but  the 
criminal,  especially  the  inexperienced  one,  is  very 
much  the  creature  of  moods,  and  is  at  any  time  just 
as  likely  to  surprise  his  friends  as  his  foes. 

At  dinner  the  man  who  sat  next  to  East,  and  who 
had  been  to  Bodmin  two  or  three  times  before, 
mentioned  that  he  was  always  in  the  habit  of  go- 
Lig  once  to  Looe  Pool  for  a  swim  before  break- 
fast, and  that  he  would  be  going  the  next  morn- 


Cfie 


ing.  Would  East  like  to  go?  He  certainly  would, 
for  swimming  was  the  exercise  of  all  others  that 
delighted  him  most,  so  he  agreed  to  be  ready  to 
start  at  six  o'clock. 

During  the  night  the  hours  went  by  one  by  one 
without  any  sleep  for  East  while  his  heart  beat  far 
beyond  its  usual  rate.  Nevertheless,  when  the  time 
arrived  to  start  on  the  walk  to  Looe  Pool,  East  was 
ready,  and  started  off  with  vigor.  The  walk  was 
along  wooded  and  pleasant  country  lanes,  but  rather 
longer  than  one  not  accustomed  to  such  early  ex- 
ercise would  care  for.  To  East,  however,  anything 
of  an  athletic  nature  always  appealed,  and  it  was  a 
new  experience  to  him  to  feel  himself  weakening, 
and  only  keeping  pace  with  his  companion  by  a 
great  effort.  When  at  length  they  arrived  at  the 
pool  he  felt  so  ill  that  he  considered  it  unsafe  to 
trust  himself  to  the  water,  so  he  let  his  companion 
go  in  alone  while  he  sat  and  watched  him  from 
the  bank.  The  rest,  however,  did  him  no  good, 
and  on  the  return  journey  it  became  apparent  that 
there  was  something  more  than  temporary  discom- 
fort to  be  reckoned  with.  Several  times  he  was 
sick  and  could  scarcely  drag  himself  back  to  the 
lodgings.  After  failing  to  eat  breakfast  and  know- 
ing that  he  was  nearer  home  than  he  would  be  later 
on  if  he  continued  with  the  circuit,  he  decided  to 
take  the  next  train  south.  He  ate  nothing  during 
the  journey,  and  the  two  or  three  brandies  and  soda 
he  took  seemed  to  have  little  or  no  effect.  Late 


anD  tfre  Publican 29 

in  the  evening  he  arrived  at  home  and  was  rallied 
by  his  father  on  his  precipitate  flight  from  the  bar. 
Still  without  food  he  went  to  bed  and  slept.  In  the 
morning  he  felt  better,  but  his  throat  was  very 
sore,  so  he  got  out  of  bed  and  examined  it  by  the 
aid  of  a  mirror.  Inside  he  saw  the  small  white 
patch  which  he  had  seen  before  in  other  throats 
at  the  time  when  he  had  visited  patients  with  his 
uncle  as  a  medical  student,  which  he  had  been  be- 
fore his  father  had  consented  to  his  following  the 
real  bent  of  his  mind  in  that  profession  which  of 
all  others  was  the  most  uncertain  in  its  rewards. 
On  his  father  coming  into  the  bedroom  to  inquire 
how  he  felt,  he  told  him  that  he  had  diphtheria. 
The  elder,  as  people  who  are  well  usually  do,  made 
light  of  such  a  fear,  but  promised  to  send  for  the 
regular  family  doctor. 

Like  a  wise  man,  the  family  doctor  said  nothing. 
That  is  always  the  wiser  course,  particularly  in  a 
family  doctor.  It  would  be  equally  wise  if  the  med- 
ical men  called  to  attend  a  distinguished  patient  in 
extremis  would  say  nothing:  there  would  be  less 
to  account  for  when  he  died,  which  he  usually  does. 
President  McKinley's  wound  was  a  trifle  at  first, 
and  so  was  the  sickness  of  Mark  Hanna.  As  a 
matter  of  fact,  the  former  was  suffering  from  a 
mortal  injury  and  the  latter  from  typhoid  fever. 
Had  they  kept  quiet,  the  doctors  might  have  saved 
their  reputations. 

After  two  days'  illness  and  an  evident  amend- 


30 


ment,  during  which  the  doctor's  gargle  had  been 
continually  used  and  his  mixture  periodically 
poured  into  the  slop  pail,  the  wise  man  vouchsafed  : 

"Did  you  ever  have  quinzy?" 

"Never." 

"You  won't  be  able  to  say  that  any  longer." 

Frank  had  no  wish  to  dispute  about  a  name  for 
his  illness,  especially  as  he  knew  that  the  growth 
had  been  checked,  and  that,  whatever  the  disease 
might  be  called,  it  would  be  treated  in  the  same 
way,  so  he  resigned  himself  to  the  joys  of  the 
convalescent  and  lived  most  of  the  time  with 
Dr.  Lydgate  in  "Middlemarch."  It  is  better  for  us 
than  opium  or  hasheesh  just  to  open  the  pages  of 
a  new  book  —  not  a  thumbed,  dirty,  second-hand 
library  thing  —  and  so  transport  ourselves  to  fresh 
fields  and  pastures  new,  when  the  grass  is  getting 
short  for  us  where  we  are.  Imagination  is  a  great 
aid  to  restoration,  even  as  it  is  the  most  powerful 
factor  in  collapse. 

On  the  first  morning  of  Frank's  arrival  down- 
stairs he  found  the  house  apparently  deserted  and 
his  sister  Gertrude  sitting  in  a  corner  of  the  dining 
room  weeping  silently. 

"Why,  what  is  the  matter,  Gertrude,"  he  in- 
quired, "is  there  anything  amiss?" 

For  answer  his  sister  pointed  silently  to  a  bunch 
of  keys  lying  on  the  table. 

"Those  are  father's  keys.  Isn't  he  down  yet?" 
asked  Frank. 


nnO  the  Pufllfcan 31 

But  the  girl  could  not  reply,  and  simply  aban- 
doned herself  to  a  torrent  of  weeping.  Frank 
rushed  upstairs,  found  the  door  of  his  father's 
bedroom  wide  open,  and  the  room  empty.  It  was 
perfectly  clear  that  his  father  had  gone — but  where 
and  why? 

On  going  down  he  found  his  sister  calmer  again, 
and  from  her  he  learned  that  when  breakfast  time 
had  arrived  and  her  father  had  not  appeared  she 
had  gone  up  to  his  room,  only  to  find  it  empty,  and 
it  was  not  until  then  that  the  significance  of  the 
bunch  of  keys  on  the  table  had  struck  her.  What 
since  had  happened  she  did  not  know.  She  thought 
John  and  the  servants  were  out  looking  for  him, 
and  the  other  children  were  probably  with  them. 

Gertrude  was  a  girl  of  about  seventeen  years  of 
age,  and  the  eldest  of  the  second  family.  John  was 
a  year  younger,  and  he  was  followed  by  three  girls 
and  one  boy,  the  youngest  being  but  three  years 
old.  The  mother  had  died  soon  after  the  birth  of 
this  boy.  The  children  were  all  bright  and  pretty 
and  the  eldest  especially  so — not  what  one  would 
call  a  beautiful  girl  or  of  the  stately  mould  that 
appropriately  goes  with  such  a  description,  but  at- 
tractive-looking and  even  pert.  Her  figure  was 
rapidly  developing  into  that  of  a  perfect  woman 
and  her  light-brown  hair  and  blue  eyes  were  in 
keeping  with  the  sunny  disposition  marked  by  the 
dimples  of  her  cheeks.  Never  before  had  she  been 
in  such  distress  as  now  overcame  her,  and  it  was 


32 Cfre 

with  difficulty  that  she  could  be  comforted.  Frank, 
however,  was  diverted  from  his  attempts  at  conso- 
lation by  the  appearance  of  John,  a  well-grown 
youngster  of  sixteen,  who  had  early  begun  to  show 
indications  of  maturity.  There  was  very  little  of 
the  boy  left  in  his  disposition,  and  he  went  about 
his  pursuits  with  a  calm,  self-centered  demeanor 
that  had  a  different  influence  on  different  people. 
Most  people  trusted  him  wholly,  while  others  looked 
upon  him  as  uncanny,  and  needing  to  be  watched. 
On  this  occasion  of  universal  sorrow  and  distrac- 
tion he  was  perfectly  calm,  and  met  Frank  as  if 
everything  was  proceeding  according  to  programme 
and  there  was  nothing  whatever  to  worry  about. 

"Well,  John,  what  do  you  know?"  asked  Frank. 

"There's  nothing  to  worry  about,"  replied  the 
boy — for  so  he  was,  little  as  he  appeared  to  be — 
"father  has  gone  either  to  Camruth  or  London. 
His  Gladstone  bag  is  gone — 'that  looks  like  Lon- 
don— and  Bob  and  the  dogcart  are  gone.  He  isn't 
dead,  anyway,  and  there  isn't  anything  to  cry 
about." 

Frank  considered  a  moment  or  two,  and  then 
said: 

"Well,  John,  we  must  go  and  see  the  people  at 
the  bank.  They  will  undoubtedly  throw  some  light 
on  the  matter.  Either  they  know  the  reason  for 
father's  sudden  disappearance,  or  they  do  not.  If 
they  do,  it  will  relieve  us,  and  if  they  do  not,  it 
may  be  that  we  shall  be  in  time  to  prevent  some 


anD  tfre  puSltorn 33 

scheme  for  throwing  money  into  a  shaft.  Since 
he  took  Bob  and  the  dogcart,  we  must  have  Lucy 
and  the  four-wheel." 

"All  right,  I'll  have  her  put  in,"  replied  John, 
and  went  away  to  have  the  mare  harnessed  and 
brought  round. 

While  this  was  being  done  Frank  found  himself 
sufficiently  reassured  to  talk  with  confidence  to  Ger- 
trude about  the  probability  of  the  mystery  being 
soon  satisfactorily  cleared  up.  He  knew  that  his 
father's  finances  must  be  giving  him  considerable 
trouble,  and  that  he  was  perhaps  in  very  .sore 
straits.  He  also  knew  that  at  such  a  time  his  own 
advice  would  rather  be  shunned  than  courted,  and 
it  had  probably  been  necessary  to  act  promptly  and 
without  reference  to  him.  Any  business  move  of 
importance  would  be  likely  to  involve  a  visit  to 
London,  and  consequently  the  disappearance  was 
not  so  wonderful,  after  all,  and  need  be  no  further 
cause  for  alarm.  All  this  he  could  not  venture  to 
say  to  Gertrude,  but  he  was  evidently  able  to  com- 
municate some  of  his  confidence  to  her,  for  when 
they  left  for  Camruth  she  bid  them  a  cheerful 
good-by  and  went  about  her  accustomed  occupa- 
tions much  as  she  would  have  done  had  her  father 
eaten  breakfast  with  them  and  gone  to  one  of  the 
mines  as  usual. 


34  Cfce  Pftati0ee 


CHAPTER  V. 

The  journey  from  Redborne  to  Camruth  might 
not  altogether  inaptly  be  compared  to  that  historic 
one  from  the  desert  to  the  promised  land,  but  there 
was  no  Red  Sea  to  be  crossed.  Halfway  there  was 
a  small  brook,  locally  called  a  river,  over  which, 
however,  there  was  a  substantial  stone  bridge. 
Redborne  was  situated  in  the  midst  of  mines  and 
barren  hills  while  Camruth  was  surrounded  by  lux- 
urious woods  which  covered  the  gentle  slope  to  a 
bay  which  was  scarcely  surpassed  for  beauty  by  the 
Bay  of  Naples.  It  could  not  be  expected  that  the 
.scenery  would  appeal  strongly  to  Frank  this  morn- 
ing, but  whatever  the  occasion  might  be,  he  could 
never  look  from  the  highest  point  of  the  road  down 
over  the  green  trees,  white  housetops,  and  spires  to 
the  blue  and  gray  bay  beyond  without  being  Phar- 
isee enough  to  thank  God  that  he  was  not  "as  other 
men  are"  and  incapable  of  deriving  pleasure  from 
such  a  view  as  that.  John  was  never  known  to  have 
expressed  admiration  for  any  scene  yet,  and  the 
inference  was  that  he  belonged  to  the  other  men, 
but  nobody  had  found  it  sufficiently  worth  while 
yet  to  study  John  enough  to  find  out.  At  school 


mtP  tljc  Publican 35 

he  had  been  a  model  boy  so  far  as  behavior  went, 
but  his  place  in  his  classes  had  not  been  high,  while 
of  Frank  it  had  been  prophesied  by  the  headmaster 
that  he  would  come  to  the  gallows,  though  his  place 
both  indoors  and  out  had  been  of  the  highest.  John 
had  always  been  apparently  meek,  but  Frank  was 
really  unmanageable.  He  took  nobody's  judgment 
but  his  own  on  all  matters,  great  or  small.  We  shall 
see  how  those  characters  developed.  At  present 
there  was  no  one  who  knew  Frank  who  would  not 
have  trusted  him  implicitly  with  his  wife  or  his 
Cremona,  but  everybody  was  shy  of  John.  He  ap- 
peared to  harbour  dark  designs,  but  he  had  done 
nothing  yet — so  far  as  known — to  justify  the  sus- 
picion which  was  really  the  result  of  his  quiet  man- 
ner— his  exemplary  behaviour,  in  fact. 

The  brothers  had  little  in  common  as  a  rule,  but 
it  is  hardly  likely  that  they  could  ride  side  by  side 
for  six  miles  without  exchanging  views  about  a 
variety  of  subjects.  The  one  thing  uppermost  in 
their  minds,  however,  gave  both  more  food  for  re- 
flection than  speech. 

"Have  you  seen  anything  that  would  seem  to 
foreshadow  this  sudden  move  on  father's  part, 
John,  while  I  have  been  in  bed  ?"  asked  Frank,  after 
a  pause  in  more  general  talk. 

"Not  a  thing,"  was  John's  sole  response. 

"Haven't  you  noticed  any  nervousness,  absent- 
mindedness,  or  anything  at  all  strange?" 

"Not  a  thing." 


36 Cfre  ptmtteee 

The  exchange  of  ideas  was  as  productive  as  usual. 
John  did  not  appear  to  be  in  funds :  he  had  no  spare 
cash. 

On  their  arrival  at  Camruth  they  went  to  the 
hotel  to  which  all  members  of  the  family  invariably 
drove  and  expected  at  least  to  find  Bob  and  the  dog- 
cart there,  for  in  either  of  the  cases  to  which  they 
had  given  a  thought — that  their  father  had  gone 
to  Camruth  or  London — they  took  it  for  granted 
that  he  would  have  left  the  horse  in  his  accustomed 
stable,  but  there  was  no  Bob.  Now,  what  had  hap- 
pened? One  thing  was  clear:  it  was  all  the  more 
necessary  to  hurry  to  the  bank  and  endeavor  to 
get  some  light  on  the  matter  there. 

The  bank  to  which  they  were  directing  their 
steps  was  that  of  Messrs.  Ellis  &  Dee,  the  men  who 
owned  Camruth,  Redborne,  and  all  the  surrounding 
country:  body,  soul,  and  accoutrements.  As  smel- 
ters they  took  all  the  tin  the  mines  raised  and  paid 
what  they  chose  for  it,  for  there  was  no  competition 
to  make  a  price,  and  as  bankers  all  the  mines  and 
everybody  connected  with  them  owed  them  money. 
There  were  some  few — farmers  mostly,  for  all  the 
merchants  and  shopkeepers  had  to  have  shares  in 
the  mines  to  get  any  trade — whom  their  tentacles 
had  not  yet  reached,  but  in  one  way  or  another  they 
were  slowly  gathering  them  in.  They  spread  special 
nets  for  the  farmers,  for  they  dearly  loved  their 
land.  They  were  not  really  interested  in  banking 
or  mining  except  as  mere  mediums  for  the  acquire- 


anO  tfre  Ptifilfcan 37 

ment  of  that  commodity,  and  any  man  who  had 
any  who  could  be  persuaded  to  take  an  interest  in 
mining  would  as  sure  as  fate  very  soon  find  that 
interest  grow  and  grow  until  it  became  the  in- 
terest on  a  mortgage  which  kept  on  growing  and 
growing  until  it  suddenly  burst  and  Ellis  &  Dee 
assumed  a  benevolent  protectorate  over  the  land  that 
was  the  patrimony  of  his  forefathers.  These  sim- 
ple, honest  yokels  could  not  stand  up  against  mod- 
ern methods:  they  were  not  transparent  enough, 
did  not  exhibit  a  map  of  the  route,  and  did  not 
afford  facilities  for  getting  out  to  walk  when  they 
came  to  a  hill. 

When  Frank  arrived,  both  partners  were  seated 
in  their  private  room,  and,  as  he  entered,  Ellis  ex- 
tended his  right  hand,  -which  was  closed  with  the 
exception  of  one  finger.  Frank  had  heard  of  this 
practice  and  took  no  notice.  Dee  was  doing  some 
work  at  his  desk,  which  he  continued  to  do. 

This  was  the  customary  method  of  reception 
adopted  by  this  powerful  firm  and  was  expected  to 
impress,  which  it  did  those  for  whom  it  was  in- 
tended, but  Frank  was  neither  awed  nor  offended 
by  it.  He  was  quite  careless  about  salutations  him- 
self and  never  deemed  them  of  sufficient  importance 
to  give  a  second  thought  to. 

Ellis  was  a  man  considerably  past  the  prime  of 
life,  with  a  bald  head  around  which  there  was  a 
fringe  of  thin,  ragged,  colorless  hair,  the  fringe  be- 
ing continued  beneath  the  chin,  but  the  face  being 


38 cfte  ptmrteee 

shaven.  The  head  was  low  and  the  forehead  had  a 
backward  slope.  The  nose  was  bottle-shaped,  and 
the  under  lip  protruded  aggressively.  It  would  be 
difficult  to  imagine  a  smile  on  such  a  face.  Per- 
haps it  would  look  something  like  a  ray  of  sun- 
shine on  a  battlefield  or  a  robin  redbreast  amid  the 
tombs. 

Dee  can  be  described  in  one  word.  He  was  not 
a  Jew,  but  he  looked  exactly  like  one.  The  thin, 
dark,  curly  hair  and  beard  and  the  hooked  nose 
were  there  to  the  life,  and  the  same  old,  keen,  and 
cunning  leer  was  as  much  at  home  on  his  face  as  on 
Shylock's  or  Fagin's.  He  lived  in  money  and  for 
money,  and  knew  absolutely  nothing  about  anything 
else  in  the  world. 

"I've  come  to  see  you  this  morning,  Mr.  Ellis," 
began  Frank,  "to  know  if  you  can  tell  me  of  any 
reason  why  my  father  should  go  to  London  at  this 
time." 

"Go  to  London?  I  don't  understand  you,"  re- 
turned the  old  man.  "Is  he  going  to  London  ?  He 
always  tells  us,  I  believe,  when  he  intends  to.  Has 
he  sent  you  as  ambassador  this  time?" 

"That  is  all  I  wanted  to  know.  You  can't  tell 
me  where  he  is,  then?" 

"What,  have  you  lost  your  father  and  come  to 
us  to  find  him  for  you?" 

"Not  at  all.  I  haven't  any  desire  that  you  should 
do  anything  in  the  matter,  but  he  has  certainly  gone 
somewhere  without  leaving  word  as  to  his  destina- 


anD  tfje 


tion,  and  I  thought  that  under  such  circumstances 
the  bank  would  be  the  first  place  where  I  should 
make  inquiries/' 

Ellis  pulled  the  bell  —  there  were  no  electric  but- 
tons at  that  date  —  and  asked  for  the  cashier,  to 
whom  he  said: 

"When  was  East  in  here  last?" 

"One  day  last  week." 

"How  is  his  account?" 

"About  even,  not  overdrawn  nor  yet  in  funds." 

"I  should  say,"  commented  Ellis  as  the  cashier 
withdrew,  "he  cannot  have  gone  far,  or  we  should 
have  heard  of  it.  Travel  costs  money,  and  that  in- 
volves a  visit  to  the  bank." 

"That  is  what  I  thought  and  principally  why  I 
came  to  you.  However,  I  am  much  obliged  for  the 
information,  and  shall  be  further  beholden  to  you 
if  you  can  suggest  anything  else  I  should  do." 

"How  did  he  go—  drive?" 

"Yes,  the  dogcart  is  gone,  and  it  has  not  arrived 
at  the  Occidental." 

"Well,  you  might  inquire  at  the  other  hotels  be- 
fore you  go  home,  but  I  expect  you  will  find  him 
there  when  you  get  there." 

It  was  evident  that  since  the  account  was  all 
right  Mr.  Ellis  took  very  little  interest  in  the  move- 
ments of  East,  Senior.  That  was  the  impression  he 
intended  to  convey,  but  as  soon  as  Frank  had  left 
the  bank,  the  cashier  was  immediately  recalled  and 
told  to  use  every  means  known  to  him  to  find  out 


40 Cfte 

where  East  had  gone,  to  take  time  by  the  forelock, 
but  at  present  go  quietly  to  work  as  it  was  by  no 
means  certain  that  he  had  done  anything  but  go 
somewhere  to  do  something  which  his  family  had 
no  concern  in,  and  which  could  be  best  done  with- 
out any  preliminary  discussion.  Ellis'  interest  in 
East,  however,  was  by  no  means  slight,  and  it  was 
a  matter  of  vital  importance  to  him  that  a  man 
whose  influence  in  keeping  the  mines  afloat  for  the 
last  seven  years  had  been  greater  than  that  of  all 
other  men  in  the  locality  combined  should  be  kept 
at  work  raising  tin  for  them  at  whatever  sacrifice 
to  himself,  the  shareholders,  or  the  miners,  who 
existed  only  for  the  purpose  of  enabling  Ellis  & 
Dee  to  grind  the  faces  of  the  poor. 

Inquiry  at  the  other  hotels  in  Camruth  developed 
no  news  of  Bob  and  the  dogcart,  so  Frank  and  John 
were  obliged  to  turn  homeward  without  a  solution 
to  the  mystery.  They  were  now  somewhat  inclined 
to  believe  that  when  they  reached  home  they  might 
find  their  father  there,  whilst  Gertrude  was  at  the 
same  time  hoping  that  they  would  bring  him  back 
with  them.  It  seemed  now  certain  that  he  had  not 
gone  to  Camruth  and  that  he  had  not  taken  the 
train,  at  least  there,  and  there  was  no  such  reason 
for  secrecy  that  he  should  wish  to  take  it  anywhere 
else.  No  clue,  however,  of  any  kind  presented  itself, 
and  when  at  length  they  arrived  at  home  without 
their  father,  Gertrude  rushed  out  to  meet  them,  fol- 
lowed by  all  the  other  children,  not  knowing  which 


mtP  tfte  Publican 41 

would  be  the  first  to  arrive,  but  fully  expecting  in 
either  event  good  news  of  some  sort.  Seeing  the 
brothers  still  alone,  she  was  once  more  overcome 
by  grief  and  with  the  others  returned  disconsolate 
to  the  house,  little  Jem  continually  wailing,  "Where 
is  Pa?  I  want  him,"  but,  still  too  young  to  appre- 
ciate anything  that  had  happened,  he  left  the  others 
to  fondle  the  dog. 

Day  after  day  passed,  and  for  a  time  the  gloom 
and  the  sorrow  deepened.  Not  a  clue  was  discov- 
ered and  not  a  ray  of  hope  appeared.  Mr.  East,  the 
horse,  and  the  dogcart,  seemed  to  have  disappeared 
from  human  ken  without  leaving  a  trace  behind.  The 
grief  of  Gertrude  and  the  children  had  become  a  sort 
of  chastened  sorrow.  There  were  no  longer  any 
bursts  of  weeping,  but  the  sun  seemed  to  have  gone 
down  behind  a  bank  of  black  clouds  and  never  to 
have  risen  again.  Frank,  however,  had  to  be  active 
and  almost  every  day  was  in  Camruth  in  consulta- 
tion with  the  bankers.  As  he  had  been  familiar  from 
his  youth  up  with  his  father's  duties,  he  was  easily 
able  to  step  into  his  shoes  at  the  mines  where  he  was 
purser  and  conduct  his  correspondence,  and  for  the 
time  affairs  were  allowed  to  drift  along  in  that  way, 
as  it  seemed  impossible  that  any  long  period  could 
elapse  without  some  news  of  the  missing  man.  It 
will  serve  no  useful  purpose,  however,  to  dwell  on 
this  painful  interval,  and  it  soon  became  evident 
that  some  steps  must  be  taken  to  appoint  a  perma- 
nent successor  to  Mr.  East  Meetings  of  the  com- 


42 Cfre 

mittees  were  held,  to  which  emissaries  from  the 
bank  were  sent  with  instructions,  and  Frank  was 
elected  to  succeed  the  purser,  it  being  understood 
that  he  would  act  as  guardian  of  his  father's  in- 
terest without  being  compelled  to  own  any  indi- 
vidual shares  himself.  Time  passed  in  this  way, 
and  meanwhile  an  inventory  of  Mr.  East's  estate 
was  being  taken  to  ascertain  how  his  affairs  stood 
and  whether  Frank  would  be  able  to  maintain  the 
status  quo  ante.  His  land  had  all  been  mortgaged 
to  the  bank,  foreclosed  on  and  passed  into  the  hands 
of  Ellis  &  Dee,  and  the  estate  now  consisted  only 
of  several  thousand  mine  shares,  none  of  which  were 
saleable.  There  were,  however,  no  debts  except  for 
the  current  household  expenses.  The  salaries  from 
the  purserships  had  never  been  sufficient  to  keep 
the  family  in  the  style  to  which  it  had  been  accus- 
tomed, and  unless  there  was  to  be  a  material  falling 
off  in  this  respect  Frank  must  add  to  his  income 
from  some  source  or  other.  Just  then  the  principal 
merchant  in  the  town,  who  had  been  chiefly  engaged 
in  supplying  the  mines  with  coal  and  candles,  had 
stepped  into  Charon's  boat  and  was  being  ferried 
across  the  Styx,  and  his  business  was  for  sale  as  he 
had  left  no  heir  who  could  carry  it  on.  This  ap- 
peared to  be  something  like  a  providential  open- 
ing. It  might  even  eventuate  in  bringing  up  John 
to  be  the  mainstay  of  the  family,  while  Frank  re- 
turned to  his  practice  at  the  bar.  It  necessitated  the 
raising  of  money,  however,  and  here  was  where 


and  tfte  publican 43 

Tremayne  came  in  to  perform  the  duty  which  had 
been  reserved  for  it.  In  short,  Ellis  &  Dee  effected 
another  mortgage,  which  they  had  foreseen,  and 
which  they  had  anticipated  when  they  gave  the  com- 
,inittees  instructions  to  vote  for  Frank  for  purser. 
As  before,  they  had  the  mines  under  their  control, 
with  the  chief  official  under  their  thumb.  Had 
they? 

Messrs.  Ellis  &  Dee  were  very  shrewd  in  their 
way  and  perfectly  well  able  to  deal  with  the  simple 
country  people  in  the  midst  of  whom  they  had  be- 
come what  they  were,  but  their  horizon  was  lim- 
ited. They  had  not  been  educated  in  the  great 
marts  of  the  world,  nor  had  they  ever  known  what 
it  was  to  be  opposed  in  any  of  their  designs  ex- 
cept by  the  inevitable  forces  of  nature,  and  so  far 
they  had  amassed  wealth  with  as  much  regularity 
and  certainty  as  the  mine  shafts  had  raised  what 
was  called  a  burrow  by  the  men  in  the  immediate 
vicinity  of  their  mouths.  From  their  point  of  view 
they  were  nourishing  a  viper  in  their  bosom,  but  as 
yet  they  knew  it  not.  The  viper,  however,  had  a 
point  of  view,  too. 


44 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Frank  had  now  to  take  up  his  cross.  When  he  de- 
termined that  Tremayne  should  be  saved  to  provide 
for  the  family  in  the  event  of  his  father's  bank- 
ruptcy, he  had  not  anticipated  the  present  denoue- 
ment. He  had  expected  that  his  father  would  be  still 
at  the  helm  and  that  this  little  farm  entailed  on  him 
would  at  least  provide  him  with  a  cargo  to  make 
another  voyage.  He  had  not  intended  also  to  offer 
himself  up  as  a  sacrifice,  which  he  seemed  to  have 
done.  He  had  only  contributed  to  the  making  of 
his  own  bed,  but  he  must  lie  on  it,  and  it  was  evi- 
dent that  he  was  not  going  to  get  much  sleep.  He 
had  suddenly  become  father  of  a  family  which  was 
without  a  mother,  and  purser  of  mines  which  made 
no  profits,  but  he  was  not  of  those  who  indulge  in 
a  folding  of  the  hands  to  sleep  in  the  face  of  diffi- 
culty, but  rather  of  those  who  like  to  be  where  the 
blows  fall  thickest  and  where  the  hills  are  steep 
and  the  way  is  dark.  The  greatest  battles,  as  has 
often  been  said  but  still  is  not  understood,  are  not 
fought  with  shrapnel  and  bayonet,  but  with  the  un- 
romantic  and  commonplace  weapons,  the  tongue  and 
the  pen,  and  he  was  about  to  have  work  enough  for 
both. 


anD  tfte  Pufrlican 45 

It  was  apparently  going  to  be  all  work,  too: 
there  was  to  be  no  play.  McLean  and  the  other 
choice  spirits  with  whom  he  had  whiled  away  his 
leisure  time  seemed  now  further  off  than  Atlantis 
or  the  Hesperides,  and  he  would  have  to  angle  for 
pleasure  in  a  very  shallow  pool.  There  was  a  vicar, 
a  distinguished  scholar  of  a  very  uncertain  temper, 
who  had  several  sons,  none  of  whom  were  scarcely 
ever  at  home;  there  were  two  or  three  dissenting 
ministers  of  narrow  belief  and  little  education,  two 
doctors,  both  old  men  and  "cranks,"  and  only  one 
man  in  the  whole  community  who  promised  to  be 
worth  cultivating,  but  Frank  had  already  been 
warned  against  him  as  "a  publican  and  a  sinner." 
Like  that  worthy  mariner  who  said  he  would  like 
to  go  to  heaven  "but  not  with  such  a  crew,"  Frank, 
after  enduring  his  loneliness  as  long  as  he  could,  was 
fain  to  welcome  the  overtures  of  the  landlord  of 
"The  Three  Tuns"  and  ride  and  drive  and  swim 
and  shoot  with  him,  though  he  was  a  pariah  and 
had  seen  the  pariahs  in  their  own  home.  Mitchell 
had  been  a  great  traveller,  and  was  possessed  of  a 
mind  fitted  to  be  improved  by  travel,  as,  in  addition 
to  having  come  of  a  good  stock,  he  had  sufficiently 
suffered  from  the  cane  and  the  ruler  before  he  ran 
away  from  home  to  enable  him  to  read  the  daily 
newspaper  at  least  and  profit  thereby.  His  horizon 
was  not  bounded  by  Camruth  on  the  east,  the  sea 
on  the  west,  the  mines  on  the  north,  and  the  arable 
land  on  the  south,  nor  were  his  ideas  entirely  de- 


46  C&e  Pfmti0ee 

rived  from  the  scriptures  as  interpreted  by  the  Rev. 
Hezekiah  Bunchgrass,  whilst  it  was  undeniable  that 
he  sometimes  tasted  whiskey  in  his  capacity  as  host, 
thereby,  as  he  said,  setting  an  example  to  his  critics 
by  practising  what  he  preached.  He  said  he  thought 
good  liquor  was  a  good  thing  for  a  man  who  knew 
how  to  use  it,  and  he  did  know  how  and  took  it 
with  a  feeling  of  satisfaction  that  he  was  able  to 
pay  for  it.  Those  who  spent  no  money  at  his  house 
said  that  he  put  poison  in  his  stomach  to  steal  away 
his  brains,  and  he  was  thankful  that  he  had  some  to 
steal.  One  who  talked  in  this  loose  manner  was  not 
regarded  as  fit  company  for  a  young  man  in  Frank's 
position,  and  perhaps  he  was  not,  but  Frank  pre- 
ferred him  to  any  other  to  be  had  in  that  locality, 
and  was  accustomed  to  follow  his  own  counsel  in  all 
things,  as  has  been  before  remarked.  Was  it  not 
enough  that  he  should  resign  his  profession  and  his 
patrimony  for  the  sake  of  his  father's  second  fam- 
ily? Must  he  also  make  a  hermit  of  himself  be- 
cause he  was  surrounded  by  "such  a  crew?"  It  is 
surely  a  very  bad  thing  for  a  fish  to  be  out  of 
water. 

Tom  Mitchell  had  no  more  sympathy  with  his  sur- 
roundings than  Frank  had,  for,  though  his  hotel 
was  in  Redborne,  his  customers  were  chiefly  the 
commercial  men  who  had  to  come  there  for  busi- 
ness and  beyond  these  he  had  only  the  few  old 
cronies  who  made  his  barroom  their  club  of  an  even- 
ing. Both  the  doctors  came  when  they  could  find 


and  tfte  Pti61ican 4? 

time  and  always  disputed  when  they  did,  and  two 
or  three  mine  managers,  a  butcher,  and  the  Irish 
drill  sergeant  of  the  rifle  corps  completed  the  as- 
sembly. Once  a  month  or  so  Frank  took  a  seat  with 
this  respectable  and  quiet  company,  but  he  rarely 
extended  his  fellowship  beyond  the  landlord,  with 
whom  he  often  spent  a  large  portion  of  the  day. 
Sometimes  a  little  entertainment  was  to  be  had  in 
the  barroom,  but  unless  there  was  unusual  excite- 
ment about  something,  the  sittings  were  rarely 
marked  by  anything  more  moving  than  a  practical 
joke  played  upon  one  of  their  number  who  had 
fallen  asleep.  Nevertheless,  these  old  boys  were 
held  by  the  pious  faction  to  be  on  the  road  to  perdi- 
tion and  rapidly  going  beyond  even  the  prayers  of 
the  elect.  Where  dissent  is  not  in  the  ascendent  they 
would  be  regarded  as  very  respectable  citizens. 

Gradually  the  usual  course  of  proceedings  came 
to  be  that  either  Frank  went  to  one  of  the  mines 
and  Tom  accompanied  him  on  horseback,  whilst  his 
wife  looked  after  the  business,  or  Tom  had  business 
of  his  own  at  Camruth  or  elsewhere  and  Frank  be- 
came the  fidus  Achates.  Tom's  trips  abroad  on  his 
own  account,  however,  were  not  frequent.  They 
usually  consisted  of  visits  to  his  friend  Billy  Mann, 
landlord  of  the  hotel  at  the  Land's  End,  with  whom, 
or  from  whom,  he  often  bought  supplies  for  the 
house,  thus  avoiding  the  middleman's  profit,  this 
course  being  quite  feasible,  as  Billy's  business  in 
wine  and  cigars  during  the  season  was  quite  a  large 


48 Cfte 

one,  for  great  numbers  of  all  kinds  of  people  vis- 
ited the  "first  and  last  hotel  in  England"  during  the 
summer  months.  The  winter  was  the  best  time  to 
see  the  Atlantic  waves  sweeping  up  in  majesty  or 
breaking  in  fury  against  the  granite  cliffs,  but  the 
majority  of  mankind  do  not  grow  enthusiastic  over 
nature  in  her  sterner  moods,  especially  if  she  has 
to  be  contended  with  for  several  miles  before  the 
scene  comes  in  view,  much  preferring  the  glorious 
sunshine,  the  gentle  breezes,  and  the  well-covered 
tablecloth  spread  on  the  grassy  summits  of  the  gran- 
ite walls  of  the  sea. 

One  day  as  they  were  trotting  along  toward  the 
Land's  End,  Tom  suddenly  broke  out  with : 

"I  believe  something's  going  to  happen.  I  dreamt 
last  night  about  you  and  no  end  of  wheels.  I 
couldn't  keep  you  out  of  the  wheels  to  save  me." 

"I  suppose  it  is  nothing  unusual  for  you  to  have 
wheels  in  your  head." 

"No,  they  enable  me  to  talk  through  my  hat  by 
machinery.  But  seriously,  I  think  you're  going  to 
break  your  neck  or  something." 

"I  have  no  doubt  I  shall.  In  fact,  I  have  broken 
something  since  you  dreamt  that." 

"What,  your  fast?" 

"You  are  so  sharp  this  morning  that  one  would 
think  you  hadn't  broken  yours.  See!  Lucy  is 
breaking,  too,  like  her  sisters  do  at  the  appearance 
of  a  male  biped.  She  must  have  seen  a  male  quad- 


anO  tfte  Pufaltcan 49 

ruped  around  here  somewhere.  What  I  broke  was  a 
good  resolution." 

"Oh,  that's  nothing.  I  break  them  every  morn- 
ing and  mend  them  every  night.  They're  just  as 
good  as  ever  next  morning." 

"What  did  you  have  for  supper?  Mushrooms? 
They  might  account  for  the  wheels  in  your  head. 
The  'piskies,'  you  know,  are  said  to  use  them  for 
wheels,  which  they  fasten  to  'kraugen'  shells  and 
drive  across  the  Gump  with  a  team  of  fireflies." 

"I'm  not  piskie-lidden,  if  I  do  believe  in  dreams." 

"Do  you  really  believe  in  dreams?  Nearly  every- 
body has  some  pet  superstition." 

"Of  course  I  believe  in  dreams.  I  must  be  vis- 
ited by  some  unseen  influence  or  I  couldn't  have 
them  when  I  am  dead  to  the  world." 

"I  never  know  when  you  are  serious,  if  you 
ever  are,  but  that  sounds  as  if  you  were,  because 
you  defend  yourself  by  what  you  intend  shall  do 
duty  for  a  reason.  Don't  you  know  that  dreams  take 
place  when  we  are  semi-conscious?  When  we  are 
dead  to  the  world,  as  you  say,  we  can't  dream,  or 
can't  know  that  we  do,  but  on  our  passage  from 
the  sleeping  to  the  waking  state  we  become  gradu- 
ally conscious  as  the  circulation  in  the  brain  becomes 
stronger,  and  those  ideas  which  are  stored  in  our 
memory  present  themselves  to  our  consciousness 
undisturbed  and  unregulated  by  the  sights  and 
sounds  of  our  environment.  Those  come  to  the 
surface  which  have  been  recently  made  use  of  and 


50 Cfte  Pimrtsee 

are  stored  in  that  part  of  the  brain  where  the  cir- 
culation was  most  active  when  we  fell  asleep  and 
bring  along  with  them  ideas  which  are  related  to 
them  in  some  way  and  are  stored  in  the  same  neigh- 
borhood, though  they  do  not  always  bring  along 
with  them  also  the  explanation  of  their  connection. 
Dreams  are  always  consequents;  they  are  never 
prophecies." 

"Thank  you,  that  was  just  as  good  as  if  I  had 
read  it  all  in  a  book.  I  suppose  you  did — in  an  en- 
cyclopaedia probably." 

"No,  you  won't  find  that  in  any  book.  I  have 
evolved  it  from  the  depths  of  my  inner  conscious- 
ness. That's  where  I  keep  my  choicest  things.  But 
I  can  tell  you  something  else.  I  have  often  had 
dreams  that  told  their  own  story  quite  plainly. 
For  instance,  I  once  dreamt  that  I  saw  my  friend 
Haskell  seated  before  a  white  tablecloth,  on  which 
he  was  cutting  cocoanut  cake.  As  I  came  up,  he 
offered  me  a  piece  and  said,  'Take  this  before  Frank 
Jacobs  comes/  whom  I  could  see  coming  across 
country,  which  was  white  with  snow.  You  will  ob- 
serve that  everything  in  this  dream  is  white  and  that 
all  the  ideas  are  connected  by  a  'k'  sound.  The 
whiteness  was  caused  by  the  light  of  the  rising  sun 
shining  full  on  my  face  and  the  'k'  sounds  were  all 
occasioned  by  the  kuk-kuk-kuk-kuk-oo  of  a  cock 
which  was  crowing  as  I  awoke." 

"I  thought  you  said  the  ideas  are  provided  by  the 
memory  and  do  not  come  from  the  outside." 


anD  tfre  publican  51 


so,  when  you  awake  gently  and  naturally 
because  you  have  slept  enough,  but  when  you  are 
aroused,  as  in  this  instance,  the  strength  of  the  pres- 
entation is  so  strong  that  it  is  that  which  will  de- 
termine from  which  quarter  of  the  brain  the  dream 
will  proceed.  You  thus  have  an  inconsequent  jum- 
ble which  is  more  or  less  ridiculous  according  to  the 
proportions  of  the  mixture  of  presentations  and 
representations,  as  the  psychologists  say." 

"Now,  you're  getting  learned.  Thank  goodness, 
there's  Billy.  You  might  try  him  with  that  disser- 
tation on  dreams.  He  sees  things  when  he  dreams, 
not  wheels,  but  serpents,  flames,  blue,  green,  and  red 
demons,  fiery  dragons  and  things  that  he  never  could 
remember  unless  from  his  previous  dreams.  He 
never  really  saw  them  anywhere." 

"You  are  speaking  of  a  diseased  brain  now  and 
the  fact  that  it  is  diseased  means  that  it  distorts. 
The  things  he  sees  are  all  memories,  nevertheless, 
twisted  into  all  manner  of  confused  representa- 
tions." 

"Hullo,  Billy!    How's  your  insomnia,  old  man?" 

Billy  Mann  was  a  swollen,  bottle-nosed,  blue  and 
red,  bloated  landlord,  with  a  rough  voice,  an  un- 
steady walk,  and  a  bleary  eye.  He  was  always  suf- 
fering from  insomnia  and  always  talking  about  it. 
As  a  rule  patients  of  this  description  pick  up  a  name 
for  their  malady  which  is  as  bad  a  distortion  as 
their  dreams.  Some  have  debetus,  others  rheumatiz, 
and  most  dispepsy,  but  Billy  had  got  hold  of  the 


52  Cfte  Pftati0ee 

right  word.  He  was  proud  of  it  and  displayed  it 
every  time  he  took  a  glass  of  anything  "for  his 
complaint." 

"How  are  you,  Mr.  Mitchell  ?"  was  Billy's  greet- 
ing, the  formality  of  which  to  the  uninitiated  would 
appear  to  be  cold  after  Tom's  hearty  familiarity,  but 
it  was  not,  for  Tom  was  one  of  those  people  who, 
though  apparently  genial  enough,  always  inspire  a 
kind  of  respect  which  requires  them  to  be  addressed 
as  "Mr."  He  was  a  fine  big  man  who  dressed  well 
and  carried  himself  on  all  occasions  with  confidence. 
You  could  no  more  shake  his  nerve  than  that  of  the 
great  pyramid.  This  may  seem  a  cheap  kind  of 
advantage  to  take  of  others,  but  in  reality  it  is  not. 
It  cannot  be  acquired  and  is  only  natural  to  those 
who  have  the  character  to  sustain  it.  The  modest, 
retiring  man  may  be  made  of  much  finer  material, 
but  he  won't  wear  so  well. 

As  their  horses  were  led  to  the  stable  Billy  invited 
his  visitors  to  "come  in  and  have  a  glass  of  Mo- 
selle" (pronounced  as  a  word  of  three  syllables), 
which  was  the  drink  he  invariably  offered  to  the 
most  favored  guests,  and  which,  by  the  bye,  no  man, 
if  he  is  honest,  will  refuse.  Those  wee  people-- 
that Scotch  term  suits  them  best — whose  god  is 
fashion,  pretend  to  like  champagne  better  than  Mo- 
selle because  it  is  "the  thing"  to  drink  a  "dry"  wine, 
but  the  real  reason  is  that  it  costs  more  and  gives 
them  a  better  chance  to  show  their  vulgarity.  The 
muscat  grape  is  unequalled  by  any  other  that  grows, 


Publican 53 

and  the  wine  made  from  it  is  absolutely  unsurpass- 
able, but  that  contemptible  tyrant  fashion,  which 
none  but  the  Lilliputians  will  pay  any  attention  to, 
discards  it  for  a  wine  distinctly  its  inferior.  Some 
children  prefer  a  green,  sour,  and  coppery  pickle  to 
a  lump  of  sparkling  bright  white  sugar,  but  they  are 
not  nice  children. 

Mitchell's  treatment  of  Billy  invariably  consisted 
in  the  process  familiarly  known  as  "pulling  his  leg," 
a  very  few  minutes  of  which  became  very  tiresome 
to  Frank,  so  he  excused  himself  that  they  might 
"talk  business"  while  he  strolled  down  to  the  point. 

Frank  was  as  familiar  with  every  foot  of  ground 
at  the  Land's  End  as  he  was  with  the  garden  at 
home,  but  he  never  visited  it  without  a  thrill  of 
pleasure  that  made  the  blood  course  through  his 
arteries  with  a  prouder  throb.  What  a  magnificent 
scene  it  was,  headland  after  headland  of  massive 
granite  sitting  like  a  lion  couchant  facing  the  might 
of  the  Atlantic  and  presenting  an  immovable  front 
to  the  battering  of  its  waves.  To-day  the  sea  was 
calm  and  cool  and  deep,  the  gentle  swells  just  kissing 
the  granite  feet  of  the  cliff  which  stretches  furthest 
west  and  south  into  the  ocean,  and  in  the  bright  sun- 
shine nature  was  decked  in  all  her  radiant  sheen. 
The  dark-blue  of  the  waters,  flecked  here  and  there 
with  white,  went  out  to  meet  the  lessening  color  of 
the  sky  as  it  approached  the  horizon,  between  which 
and  the  spot  on  which  he  stood  the  white  shaft  of 
the  lighthouse  shot  upward  from  its  black  crag  as 


54 C6e  Pftarfcee 

much  of  an  ornament  by  day  as  it  was  a  beacon  by 
night.  The  cliffs  at  this  time  were  clad  in  purple 
heather,  the  mauve  flower  familiarly  known  as  the 
sea  pink  and  that  most  beautiful  of  all  wildflowers 
because  of  its  delicate  shape  and  tints,  known  to 
some  by  the  unsuitable  and  pretentious  name  of  con- 
volvulus, to  others  by  the  equally  unfit  name  of 
bindweed,  and  to  yet  others  as  the  morning  glory. 
It  certainly  should  have  done  better  than  this  in  the 
course  of  time  and  should  have  earned  for  itself  a 
name  expressive  in  one  word  as  far  as  possible  of 
gentle  birth.  Do  you  wonder  what  was  the  name 
that  Adam  gave  it? 

Frank  gazed  in  silent  awe  at  the  magic  scene  and 
again  thanked  God  that  he  was  not  as  other  men 
are.  Once,  he  thought,  I  drove  a  little  whippersnap- 
per  of  a  parson  down  here  to  see  the  Land's  End 
in  a  storm,  and,  standing  at  the  extremity,  two  hun- 
dred feet  perpendicularly  above  the  wrestling  waves 
whose  spray  was  flung  above  his  head,  he  folded 
his  hands  behind  his  back  and  muttered,  "I'm  dis- 
appointed." That  man  will  be  disappointed  in  "the 
great  white  throne."  What  an  uncomfortable  thing 
it  must  be  to  go  about  the  world  with  an  imagination 
too  big  for  it! 

On  Frank's  return  to  the  hotel  he  found  that 
Billy  was  being  removed  upstairs  to  bed  in  a  som- 
nolent condition,  for  guests  would  soon  be  arriving 
— the  drive  from  Camruth  was  a  long  one — and, 
for  the  credit  of  the  house,  it  would  be  best  to  have 


and  tftc  Pufalfccin      55 

him  out  of  the  way.  Billy's  "Moselley"  had  stirred 
up  the  whiskey  he  had  been  previously  taking,  and 
the  inevitable  had  happened.  There  was  also  some- 
thing else  inevitable:  if  Billy  did  not  speedily 
straighten  up  and  keep  himself  sober  enough  to  look 
after  his  own  house,  there  would  be  another  land- 
lord of  the  first  and  last  hotel  in  England.  One 
Tom  Mitchell  would  not  mind  if  there  was. 

On  the  way  home  the  talk  of  the  two  friends  had 
a  directer  bearing  on  the  local  situation  than  had 
their  banter  on  the  outward  journey.  Mitchell's 
style  was  usually  of  a  mocking  character,  and  he 
was  just  as  likely  to  mean  what  he  said  jokingly  as 
not  to  mean  what  he  asserted  was  an  article  of  his 
creed.  He  also  very  soon  adopted  that  style,  and 
East  had  not  known  him  many  days  before  he  found 
him  to  be  a  sort  of  animated  riddle.  This  made  his 
company  much  more  entertaining  than  would  have 
been  that  of  a  more  matter-of-fact  individual,  and 
especially  one  of  the  type  prevalent  in  Redborne. 

As  they  rode  along,  Mitchell  suddenly  blurted  out, 
"Why  don't  you  join  the  church?" 

"Why  don't  you?"  Frank  returned. 

"I  have  the  floor— or  shall  have  if  I  get  pitched 
off.  When  you've  answered  my  question  I'll  answer 
yours." 

"In  the  first  place,  you  don't  care  two  straws 
whether  I  go  to  church  or  not,  and  in  the  second 
place,  it  wouldn't  do  you  any  good  to  know  why  I 
do  not." 


56 Cfte  Pimrteec 

"I  assure  you  I  take  quite  a  paternal  interest  in 
your  welfare,  and  I  know  that  in  this  community 
you'll  be  among  the  rocks  before  you  know  it  if  you 
don't  go  to  church." 

"Then  you  think  I  ought  to  consult  my  temporal 
welfare  by  pretending  to  be  anxious  about  my  im- 
mortal soul?" 

"Of  course.  Your  bread  and  butter  is  a  matter 
of  immediate  consequence;  the  other  you  can  'take 
under  advisement/  ' 

"Then  why  don't  you  take  your  own  medicine?" 

"Because  I'm  a  publican,  of  course.  I  haven't  got 
a  soul  to  save — or,  if  I  have,  it  won't  be  saved, 
which  comes  to  the  same  thing." 

"You  said  just  now  that  in  my  case  that  was  a 
matter  that  could  wait.  What  about  the  bread  and 
butter?" 

"Don't  eat  any.  Since  I  became  a  man  I  put  away 
childish  things.  But  it  wouldn't  do  me  any  good, 
anyhow,  to  go  to  church.  I  don't  want  that  crowd 
in  my  house  if  they  would  come,  and  they  don't 
want  me  in  theirs,  but  you've  got  to  go  or  you'll 
find  you  can't  live  here." 

"Nonsense !  What  business  is  it  of  anybody  else's 
what  I  do  so  long  as  I  keep  the  mine  accounts 
straight?" 

"You  don't  hear  all  the  talk  I  do.  You  are  fre- 
quently the  topic  for  our  barroom  crowd,  and  if 
they  are  sufficiently  interested  in  you  to  make  you. 
the  subject  of  their  conversation,  don't  you  suppose 


and  tftc  publican 5? 

that  all  the  old  women  in  the  parish  are  spreading 
artful  insinuations  about  you  that  become  wilful 
lies  before  the  fifth  repetition?" 

"What  if  they  do?    How  can  it  affect  me?" 

"In  this  way.  First  they  will  notice  that  you  are 
seen  in  my  company  very  frequently,  then  they  will 
wonder  how  we  spend  our  time  in  the  evenings 
and  will  suggest  cards,  next  one  will  say  definitely 
that  we  play,  after  that  the  suggestion  will  be  added 
that  we  play  for  money  and  then  will  come  the  re- 
flection as  to  the  unwisdom  of  trusting  such  large 
sums  of  money  as  pass  through  your  hands  on  ac- 
count of  the  mines  to  a  gambler.  I'm  willing  to  bet 
you  that  if  you  don't  join  the  church  you  will  be 
called  into  old  Ellis'  sweatbox  pretty  soon  and 
treated  to  a  little  fatherly  counsel." 

"Nonsense!  Ellis  won't  pay  any  attention  to  the 
gossip  of  these  busybodies,  and  if  he  does,  it  will  be 
quite  easy  to  show  him  that  it  is  only  the  talk  of 
idle,  mischievous  people." 

"On  the  contrary.  You  can't  show  him  that  you 
don't  associate  with  me,  and  the  fact  that  you 
do  that  will  be  enough.  As  I  told  you,  you  had  bet- 
ter join  the  church,  and  in  addition — well,  they  go 
together,  anyhow — you  had  better  drop  me." 

"I  wish  I  could  tell  when  you  are  serious  and 
when  not,  but  I  have  never  been  able  to  discover 
any  indicator  which  would  give  me  the  clue  as  yet." 

"I  don't  see,"  replied  Mitchell,  "that  it  makes 


58 Cfre  ptmtigee 

any  difference  whether  I  am  serious  or  not.  You 
can  see  yourself  that  it  is  a  serious  matter  for  you." 

"On  the  contrary,  I  am  quite  unable  to  see  any- 
thing more  than  the  banter  which  it  amuses  you  to 
indulge  in." 

"All  right,  I've  warned  you.  Go  to  the  devil  in 
spite  of  me  if  you  want  to,  but  you'll  have  to  ac- 
knowledge when  you  get  to  Hades  that  I  tried  my 
best  to  keep  you  on  this  side  of  the  river." 

"Well,  now,"  said  Frank,  "just  for  the  sake  of 
argument,  how  could  it  mend  matters  for  me  to 
join  the  church?" 

"Why,  you'd  be  able  to  protect  yourself  then.  In 
the  first  place,  you  wouldn't  be  an  object  of  so  much 
interest  and  there  wouldn't  be  so  many  lies  told 
about  you.  Those  that  were  told  you  would  hear 
of  and  be  in  a  position  to  contradict.  They  would 
be  brought  to  you  by  your  good  friends,  whilst  now 
the  mischief  is  done  without  your  knowing  any- 
thing at  all  about  it.  Take,  for  instance,  our  party 
in  the  bar.  You  would  never  think  from  the  way 
old  Slow  meets  you  that  he  ever  had  anything 
against  you,  would  you  ?  Yet  I  have  heard  him  say- 
ing the  most  uncomplimentary  things  about  you. 
Of  course,  I  shut  him  up  when  I  heard  him,  but 
you  can  bet  he  improved  the  opportunity  as  soon 
as  I  was  out  of  hearing." 

"Why  on  earth  is  it  that  these  old  beasts  can't 
let  a  man  alone  when  he  never  interferes  with 
them?" 


ana  tfte  pufiliran 59 

"You  can't  look  at  anything  from  the  same  point 
of  view  as  they  do." 

"No,  thanks  be.  But  fancy  anybody  that  had  any 
knowledge  of  me  at  all  accusing  me  of  playing 
cards!  Do  you  play?" 

"Not  if  I  can  help  it,  but  once  in  a  great  while 
I  do  in  order  not  to  be  the  only  man  in  the  room 
who  won't  take  a  hand,  but  I  never  by  any  chance 
play  for  any  more  than  nominal  or  penny  points." 

"I  don't  even  do  that.  It  is  not  a  point  of  moral- 
ity with  me,  but  merely  of  common  sense.  Card- 
playing  is  the  most  stupid  way  of  spending  the  time 
I  know  of.  I  prefer  rational  conversation  about 
even  the  most  ordinary  topic." 

"Well,  I  can  hardly  agree  with  you  there.  You 
have  been  accustomed  to  talk  to  people  who  have 
ideas  to  exchange.  I  would  certainly  rather  play  a 
good  game  of  whist  than  listen  to  those  two  bril- 
liant lights  of  the  medical  profession  that  adorn  my 
barroom,  Drs.  Slow  and  Bumm." 

"If  I  can't  find  anybody  worth  talking  to,  I  keep 
my  own  counsel,  or  read  a  book.  Card  playing  I 
don't  consider  at  all.  It  is  simply  a  sinful  waste 
of  time  and  that  is  far  worse  than  waste  of  money." 

"Oh,  I  don't  know.  I'm  a  bit  of  philosopher  my- 
self, too,  you  know.  The  same  reason  that  induces 
us  to  converse  prompts  us  to  play  cards.  The  game 
calls  forth  the  same  desires.  In  each  we  have  an 
adversary  and  the  majority  care  more  for  victory  in 


eo Cfte 

both  contests  than  they  do  for  the  matter  of  con- 
troversy." 

"To  me  to  sit  down  to  play  cards  is  like  deliber- 
ately throwing  my  money  into  the  sea.  If  I  specu- 
late, I  may  get  some  return,  and  if  I  listen  I  may 
learn,  but  of  malice  aforethought  recklessly  to 
squander  hours  of  that  precious  time  which  can 
never  return  in  the  manipulation  of  bits  of  paste- 
board is  such  a  silly  and  contemptible  thing  to  do 
that  I  should  be  more  ashamed  of  doing  it  than  I 
should  of  getting  drunk.  There's  one  thing  I  escape, 
anyhow.  They  can't  accuse  me  of  the  twin  folly 
called  dancing.  There's  no  chance  of  that  here." 

"Well,  if  they  can't  accuse  you  of  dancing  they'll 
accuse  you  of  something  worse  before  long.  There's 
no  compromise  with  these  people.  Your  only  course 
I  tell  you  is  to  join  the  church." 

"In  the  sixteenth  century  men  were  burned  for 
refusing  to  join  the  church.  I  am  not  willing  to 
go  that  length  because  I  think  a  man  is  a  fool  to 
throw  away  the  only  life  he  has,  or  ever  will  have, 
for  any  cause,  but  I  am  willing  to  endure  a  reason- 
able— or  unreasonable — amount  of  persecution, 
rather  than  turn  hypocrite." 

"I  know.  You  belong  to  that  pigheaded  race 
who  prefer  to  butt  at  a  stone  wall  rather  than  climb 
over  it,  whereas  I  belong  to  the  crowd  who  would 
even  prefer  to  dig  a  hole  under  it.  I  don't  want  to 
'fix  baynits'  and  charge,  or  perform  any  acro- 
batics, if  any  obliging  person  will  make  a  hole  for 


me  with  a  spade.  I  don't  even  want  to  do  the  dig- 
ging myself." 

"Not  a  bit  of  it.  You're  no  more  a  diplomat 
than  I  am,  and  you  wouldn't  join  the  church  on  any 
consideration  whatever." 

"I  don't  have  to,  but  if  I  had  to  I  would.  You'll 
have  to :  that's  all  there  is  about  it." 

"Not  much.  I  have  read  everything  valuable  that 
ever  has  been  written  on  the  subject  and  have  given 
it  years  of  careful  thought.  I  don't  intend  to  waste 
any  more  time  on  the  conflict  between  religion  and 
science.  My  mind  is  made  up,  and  I  shall  save  my 
time  for  better  things." 

"That's  neither  here  nor  there.  I  don't  care  what 
you  believe.  That's  not  the  question.  You  can't 
do  the  work  you  are  trying  to  do  here  unless  you 
submit  to  the  public  opinion  that  rules  this  com- 
munity." 

"But  I  am  only  here  to  carry  out  a  temporary  pur- 
pose. As  soon  as  John  is  able  to  step  into  my  shoes 
I  shall  only  be  too  glad  to  resign  them." 

"Even  that  will  be  a  matter  of  years,  and  you 
won't  be  allowed  to  go  on  even  for  one  year  as 
you  are  going.  You  may  think  that  if  you  want  to 
sacrifice  yourself  on  the  altar  of  duty  or  humanity 
— or  on  whatever  other  altar  you  are  offering  your- 
self up — all  you  have  to  do  is  to  make  up  your  mind 
to  do  it,  but  I  tell  you  you  won't  be  allowed  even  to 
do  that  unless — you  join  the  church." 


62  Cfie 

Just  then  the  horses  cantered  into  town  and  they 
separated  as  the  hotel  came  in  view,  Frank  going 
on  home,  which  was  only  two  or  three  hundred 
yards  farther. 


anD  t&e  publican  63 


CHAPTER  VII. 

John  was  in  the  habit  of  getting  the  letters  from 
the  post  office  rather  than  wait  until  they  were  de- 
livered, as  that  left  very  little  time  for  answering 
any  that  had  to  be  replied  to  by  return,  and  when 
one  morning  Frank  was  looking  over  those  ad- 
dressed to  him,  he  said: 

"Here's  another  invoice  addressed  to  the  mine  I 
wish  you'd  tell  them  not  to  give  you  any  of  these 
things  but  put  them  in  the  mine  bag.  The  boy 
is  gone  now,  and  I  shall  have  to  take  this  thing  down 
there  myself.  Letters  addressed  to  the  purser 
should,  of  course,  come  here,  but  those  addressed 
to  the  manager,  or  to  the  mine  simply,  should  go 
there.  Very  often  they  are  way-bills  of  goods  com- 
ing in  that  day  and  are  wanted  at  once." 

"I've  told  them  that  already,"  replied  John,  "but 
you  know  what  a  pigheaded  lot  they  are.  They 
will  do  things  their  own  way." 

"You  can  always  trust  people  who  are  secure  in 
their  jobs  to  be  as  disobliging  as  possible.  Those 
who  have  to  win  and  keep  customers  acquire  very 
different  habits." 

"Did  you  hear  how  they  refused  to  deliver  a  let- 


64 C&e 

ter  to  old  Dr.  Slow  because  it  was  addressed  to 
Chapel  Street,  where  he  used  to  live,  instead  of  to 
Market  Street,  where  he  is  now?  They  said  there 
wasn't  any  Dr.  Slow  on  Chapel  Street  and  sent  the 
letter  back." 

"Yes,  I've  heard  lots  of  stories  of  that  kind 
about  them.  They  won't  inconvenience  me  by  their 
stubbornness  or  their  stupidity  any  more  than  I  can 
help,  though." 

"Hulloh!  What's  this?"  exclaimed  Frank,  as  he 
went  on  looking  through  the  letters.  "Here's  a  note 
from  the  bank,  enclosing  a  clipping  from  a  Falmouth 
paper  and  asking  if  it  doesn't  refer  to  our  horse  and 
dogcart." 

This  would  have  startled  most  people,  but  not 
(John  He  merely  looked  up  from  an  invoice  of 
candles  he  was  reading,  and  Frank  went  on : 

"Horse  and  dogcart  left  at  Union  Hotel.  Owner 
can  have  it  on  proper  proof  and  paying  expenses. 
Now,  what  does  that  indicate,  John?  It  seems  to 
me  more  mysterious  than  ever." 

"It  shows  he  drove  to  Falmouth,"  replied  John. 

"Of  course,  of  course.  Haven't  you  got  any 
further  than  that?  Why  did  he  drive  to  Falmouth 
—to  take  train  or  ship,  or  had  he  business  in  Fal- 
moutn  and  met  with  foul  play  or  lost  his  life  acci- 
dentally there?" 

"If  he  wanted  to  go  by  train  he  would  go  to 
Camruth,  and  if  he  wanted  to  go  by  ship  he  would 


anD  tjje  pufiltom 


go  to  Plymouth,  and  I  never  heard  of  his  having 
business  in  Falmouth." 

"Well,  I  suppose  I  shall  have  to  go  and  claim  tfiiS 
horse  and  perhaps  I  can  find  out  something  more 
there,  but  the  advertisement  is  now  more  than  a 
month  old,  and  they  may  have  sold  old  Bob  to  pay 
expenses.  In  the  first  place  I'll  write  and  find  that 
out.  As  to  the  getting  of  information,  the  bank 
will  already  have  attended  to  that.  The  whole 
county  is  honeycombed  with  their  secret  agents. 
Meanwhile  don't  say  anything  to  Gertrude.  It's  no 
use  raising  false  hopes." 

That  day  the  first  account  under  Frank's  purser- 
ship  was  to  be  held  at  North  Decamp,  but  there  was 
nothing  to  be  anxious  about.  The  mine  had  about 
paid  cost,  so  there  would  be  no  necessity  for  a  call, 
and  Mr.  East's  shares  could  still  continue  to  be  held 
in  his  name.  For  the  present  this  gave  Frank  some 
standing,  but  when  the  time  should  come  that  they 
must  pay  a  call  or  be  relinquished,  his  position 
would  hang  on  a  very  slender  thread.  His  disposi- 
tion always  had  been  to  meet  trouble  more  than 
halfway,  but  he  had  always  found,  when  it  arrived, 
that  he  was  more  than  a  match  for  it  and  that  it 
really  was  not  so  bad  as  he  had  feared.  In  any  event 
he  was  secure  for  another  sixteen  weeks,  and  that 
is  always  a  comfortable  margin  to  have. 

The  business  meeting,  called  for  one  o'clock,  pre- 
ceded by  the  committee  meeting  at  twelve,  was  as 
uninteresting  as  meetings  of  this  kind  usually  are, 


66 Cfre 

and  at  two  o'clock  the  shareholders  present,  with  a 
few  visitors  from  neighboring  mines  and  Camruth, 
passed  upstairs  to  dinner  in  good  spirits  and  with 
appetites  sharpened  by  a  drive  in  the  fresh  air  and 
by  being  delayed  an  hour,  or,  in  some  cases,  two 
hours  beyond  their  usual  time  for  dinner.  The  meal 
is  a  very  plain  and  substantial  one,  cooked  by  a 
woman  in  the  account  house  who  in  her  early  days 
acted  in  the  same  capacity  in  some  of  the  best  houses 
in  the  neighborhood,  but  is  far  fresher,  cleaner, 
and  more  bountiful  than  most  of  the  dinners  to  be 
had  in  fashionable  restaurants.  Mere  flavors  would 
be  wasted  on  these  healthy  stomachs  which,  how- 
ever, are  never  allowed  to  be  scared  by  a  speck  of 
dirt.  The  very  floor,  freshly  scrubbed,  is  as  clean  as 
soap  and  water  can  make  it.  The  thing,  though, 
which  is  really  distinctive  about  a  Cornish  mine 
dinner,  is  the  punch,  which  is  not  introduced  until 
the  cloth  is  removed  and  the  speech-making  begins. 
Most  mines  are  willing  to  stand  or  fall  by  the  qual- 
ity of  this  seductive  drink  and  those  who  indulge 
in  it  stand  or  fall  according  to  the  quantity  of  it  they 
consume.  It  is  brewed  by  the  local  expert  who 
knows  the  proper  proportions  for  the  huge  jug 
which  has  done  duty  for  the  purpose  ever  since  the 
mine  was  started,  an  idea  of  which  may  be  afforded 
by  giving  the  recipe  for  a  tumblerful,  which  is :  the 
juice  of  half  a  lemon,  sufficient  sugar  to  absorb  it, 
a  wineglassful  two-thirds  rum  and  one-third  brandy 
and  enough  boiling  water  to  fill  the  tumbler.  The 


anD  tftc  pufllftan 6? 

reservoir  is  kept  at  the  head  of  the  table  and  two 
smaller  jugs  are  filled  from  it,  one  going  down 
while  the  other  comes  up  the  hospitable  board.  As 
long  as  the  punch  lasts  it  continues  to  be  drunk 
while  speeches  are  made  in  response  to  the  various 
toasts.  "The  Queen"  (it  was  then),  is  the  first, 
and  next  "The  Duke  and  Duchess  of  Cornwall  and 
the  rest  of  the  Royal  Family/'  to  which  no  replies 
are  made  unless  an  agent  from  the  Duchy  should  be 
present,  as  is  sometimes  the  case,  but  the  third  is 
"The  health  of  our  purser,"  invariably  proposed  by 
the  committeeman  on  the  right  of  the  chair,  in 
which  the  purser  sits.  To  this  he  is  expected  to  re- 
spond, and  then  follow  in  their  order  "Success  to 
the  mine,"  responded  to  by  the  manager  and  the  dif- 
ferent agents,  "The  neighboring  mines,"  to  which 
their  representatives  reply,  and  finally  "The  vis- 
itors," all  of  whom  are  expected  to  "sing  for  their 
supper" — not  literally.  That  would  be  considered  a 
breach  of  decorum  to  which  a  mine  account  dinner 
has  never  been  known  to  descend. 

On  the  present  occasion  Frank  determined  to 
issue  his  manifesto,  as  he  knew  that  his  speech  would 
be  reported  in  extenso  in  the  local  papers,  represen- 
tatives of  which  were  present,  in  order  to  correct  the 
false  impressions  which  Mitchell  had  warned  him 
were  abroad  and  which  were  evidently  entertained 
by  the  gentleman  who  had  proposed  his  health  and 
that  of  his  father  for  a  generation  past.  A  faculty 
for  ready  speech  had  been  inherited  from  his  par- 


68 Cfre 

ent  and  he  really  never  felt  so  much  at  home  as  he 
did  when  giving  formal  utterance  to  his  own 
thoughts.  From  his  habit  of  going  out  to  meet 
things  he  always  felt  nervous  for  a  time  before- 
hand, but  as  soon  as  he  had  really  begun  to  say 
what  he  had  to  tell,  he  spoke  with  the  ease  and 
grace  of  a  veteran,  though  his  experience  until  now 
had  been  almost  entirely  limited  to  school  and  col- 
lege debating  societies.  The  part  of  his  speech 
which  concerns  us  was  this : 

"Mr.  Limpet  appears  to  be  echoing  the  popular 
impression  when  he  takes  it  for  granted  that  I  am 
here  to  stay,  but  nothing  is  further  from  my  inten- 
tion. My  presence  here  is  pure  accident  and  will  be 
as  temporary  as  I  can  possibly  manage  to  make  it. 
Most  of  you  probably  know  that  I  am  right  at  the 
threshold  of  a  profession  for  which  I  have  been 
preparing  for  many  years  and  which  I  have  no  in- 
tention whatever  of  abandoning,  but  for  the  present 
there  seemed  to  be  no  other  course  open  to  me  than 
the  one  I  have  adopted.  As  long  as  I  hold  this  posi- 
tion I  shall  do  my  duty,  as  I  see  it,  but  I  sincerely 
hope  that  the  day  will  not  be  far  distant  when  I 
may  be  permitted  to  retire  in  favor  of  another.  In 
saying  so  much,  however,  I  do  not  wish  to  seem  un- 
grateful for  your  kind  reception,  which  I  am  deeply 
sensible  of,  but  I  take  this  course  that  I  may  not 
sail  under  false  colors  and  that  I  may  improve  this 
semi-public  occasion  to  upset  the  structure  which 
has  been  raised  on  the  basis  of  the  dark  designs 


attD  the  puBtican 69 

manifested  by  my  father  in  disappearing  and  by 
me  in  fortunately  being  led  by  diphtheria  to  take  a 
peep  over  the  side  of  the  grave  so  as  to  be  on  hand 
at  the  right  moment." 

Frank  cared  a  great  deal  more  to  be  thoroughly 
understood  than  he  did  whether  his  speech  was  ac- 
ceptable or  not  to  those  in  whose  hearing  it  was 
spoken,  for  he  very  well  knew  that  the  tenure  of  his 
office  did  not  in  the  least  depend  on  them,  but  on 
their  owners,  Ellis  &  Dee.  He  had  been  put  in 
with  a  view  to  further  their  own  objects,  and  they 
thought  he  would  be  obedient,  as  they  held  his  mort- 
gage, but  he  was  determined  that  they  should  know 
that  he  was  perfectly  independent  and  had  no  in- 
tention of  acting,  even  temporarily,  as  the  mere 
mouthpiece  of  another.  He  intended  to  do  his  duty 
as  he  alone  saw  it,  and  every  one  concerned  would 
please  take  notice. 

The  speech  was  received  with  a  kind  of  mild  sur- 
prise by  the  hoary  old  temporisers  at  the  head  of 
the  board,  between  whom  significant  smiles  and 
deprecatory  shakes  of  the  head  were  exchanged, 
but  some  of  the  younger  spirits  at  the  other  end  of 
the  room,  led  by  Tom  Mitchell,  who  was  a  small 
shareholder,  seemed  to  appreciate  the  declaration  of 
independence  and  applauded  accordingly. 

Frank's  attitude  was  no  doubt  unwise  from  a  con- 
servative point  of  view,  but  he  was  irritated  at  the 
evident  misconception  formed  of  him  and  the  evil- 
speaking  and  uncharitableness  which  Mitchell  had 


Cfte 


hinted  at,  and  he  thought  that  he  had  better  take 
advantage  of  an  opportunity  like  this  to  make  his 
position  clear.  A  preliminary  assertion  of  independ- 
ence, however,  is  seldom  called  for.  It  is  quite 
proper  as  a  defense,  but  impolitic  as  a  defiance. 
Diplomatic  Frank  could  never  be.  There  was  noth- 
ing for  which  he  had  greater  scorn.  Polite  lying 
he  would  never  stoop  to.  He  was  determined  that 
his  course  at  all  times  should  be  an  open  book  which 
"the  wayfaring  man,  though  a  fool,  need  not  err" 
in. 

The  effect  of  this  speech,  however,  was  only 
temporary  at  this  time,  as  much  greater  entertain- 
ment was  expected  in  those  which  were  to  follow. 
An  account  was  a  mine  agent's  gala  day  and  the 
efforts  he  made  to  shine  as  an  orator  were  much 
appreciated  by  those  who,  like  Mitchell,  apprehended 
the  situation  and  relished  the  display  of  familiarity 
with  words  which  bore  no  relation  to  the  meaning 
they  were  intended  to  convey.  One  worthy  man, 
for  instance,  said  truly  that  speaking  was  not  his 
"fault,"  but  one  thing  he  could  say  was  that  "the 
proximity  of  the  ends"  was  everything  that  could 
be  desired. 

The  last  of  the  agents  to  speak  was  a  son  of  the 
manager.  Talent  is  so  common  in  families  that  a 
clever  parent  can  generally  manage  to  find  room 
on  the  pay-roll  of  the  corporation  that  employs  him 
for  an  able  scion  of  his  own  stock,  and  it  was  for 
this  reason  that  Captain  Samuel  Shuffler  drew  dou- 


and  tfte  Ptifilicatt 


ble  the  wages  of  a  working*  miner  and  was  per- 
mitted to  eat  with  "the  quality"  once  every  sixteen 
weeks.  Had  it  been  possible  he  would  gladly  have 
avoided  the  ordeal  through  which  he  now  had  to 
pass,  but  to  do  so  he  would  have  to  go  without  the 
dinner  and  the  punch,  and  rather  than  that  should 
happen  he  would  do  all  the  speech-making  himself. 
Calls  for  "Sam"  were  heard  proceeding  from 
Mitchell  and  others  in  his  neighborhood,  so  reluc- 
tantly the  young  man  got  on  his  feet  and  tried  to 
begin,  but  he  couldn't  say  "Gentlemen."  He  satis- 
factorily proceeded  so  far  as  "Mr.  Chairman  and," 
but  there  he  stuck. 

"Never  mind  the  gentlemen,  Sam,"  prompter 
Mitchell  interpolated.  "Go  right  ahead:  'Unac- 
customed as  I  am/  ' 

But  no  stammerer  will  ever  consent  to  be  helped. 
He  always  changes  his  word  if  you  try  to  do  it.  So 
Sam  resigned  his  attempt  in  favor  of  "friends  all," 
which  he  thought  equally  appropriate  and  managed 
to  enunciate.  "It  is  a  great  pleasure  to"  —  here  he 
broke  down  again,  and  as  the  next  letter  appeared 
to  be  "f,"  Mitchell  suggested  "feed/'  but  Sam  shook 
his  head  and  changed  again.  "D"  seemed  to  be 
coming  now,  so  Tom  tried  "drink,"  and  as  often  as 
he  changed  somebody  suggested  help,  but  in  due 
time  Sam  managed  to  get  out  "do  my  best,"  and, 
after  sundry  further  attempts  and  interruptions,  to 
add,  "and  I  thank  you,  gentlemen  (he  got  out  the 
word  with  wonderful  ease  this  time,  as  he  had  a 


Cfte  Pfmrigee 


purpose  in  view)'  and  Mr.  Mitchell  for  -  •"  He 
could  not  be  heard  to  say  any  more,  but  resumed 
his  seat  amid  tumultuous  applause. 

The  remaining  toasts  brought  forth  neither  bud- 
ding nor  latent  talent,  and  the  company  was  get- 
ting torpid  when  tea  and  coffee,  with  thin  slices 
of  bread  and  butter,  were  introduced  and  revived 
them  somewhat.  The  joy  of  the  occasion,  however, 
was  yet  to  come  in  the  shape  of  hot  spirit  and 
water,  which  the  seasoned  would  continue  to  imbibe 
for  some  hours  yet,  the  majority,  including  the  pur- 
ser, leaving  after  the  first  or  second  glass. 

Frank  had  brought  Mitchell  with  him,  and  they 
left  together.  On  the  way  home  he  told  him  that 
he  had  had  news  of  Bob  and  the  dogcart  and  that 
they  were  at  the  Union  Hotel,  Falmouth.  He  ex- 
pected to  have  to  go  and  claim  them. 

"You  don't  say  so,"  replied  Tom.  "Does  that 
fall  in  with  your  theory?  It  is  the  last  place  I 
should  have  thought  of.  I  don't  suppose  you  know 
anybody  there,  do  you?" 

"I  don't  believe  I  do,  and  I  didn't  know  that 
father  did.  It's  off  our  beat  altogether." 

"Then  here  I  come  in  as  a  blessing  in  disguise 
again.  I  know  the  proprietor  of  the  Union  very 
well.  I'll  go  with  you  and  prove  your  ownership." 

"It  may  be  that  the  horse  is  sold  by  this  time. 
I  should  never  have  known  about  it,  as  an  advertise- 
ment in  a  Falmouth  paper  would  be  no  more  likely 
to  reach  me  than  one  in  the  Edinburgh  Scotstmn 


and  tl)C  Publican 73 

or  the  Berliner  Tageblatt,  but  very  few  things  escape 
Ellis  &  Dee.  They  sent  me  the  clipping." 

"You  ought  to  be  very  much  obliged  to  your  good 
friends.  You'll  get  the  horse  back,  all  right,  if  he 
has  been  sold,  and  I  should  say  you  would  be  mighty 
glad  to.  Lucy  is  good  enough  as  a  general  pur- 
poses animal,  but  I've  seldom  seen  a  horse  I  liked 
better  than  Bob.  He's  good-looking,  good-tem- 
pered, willing,  strong  and  fast.  His  action's  good, 
too.  Lucy  is  a  daisy-clipper." 

"I  agree  with  you  about  Bob.  He's  the  best- 
tempered  animal  I  ever  had  to  do  with  for  one  of 
so  much  spirit.  I  always  put  the  horse  away  my- 
self when  I  come  home  late,  you  know,  and,  when 
I  began  to  do  it  I  didn't  know  enough  to  turn  the 
collar  upside  down  before  taking  it  off,  and  he  used 
to  let  me  pull  it  over  his  ears  without  a  murmur." 

"That  would  be  enough  to  drive  any  horse  crazy. 
I  wonder  he  let  you  come  near  him  after  doing  it 
once." 

"Well,  I  suppose  he  said  to  himself,  'He  doesn't 
know  any  better,  and  as  long  as  he  never  uses  the 
whip  or  bearing-rein  and  never  jerks  my  mouth 
about,  I  can  put  up  with  this.  Besides,  he  always 
gives  me  a  carrot  as  soon  as  he  gets  the  infernal 
thing  off.' ' 

"My  mare  is  going  very  thin.  I  can't  make  out 
what's  the  matter  with  her.  I  feed  her  myself,  and 
she  eats  well  enough,  but  she  doesn't  thrive  at  all. 
Sometimes  she  looks  around  as  if  she  wants  some- 


74 


thing  and  doesn't  touch  the  food  for  quite  a  while." 

"Do  you  water  her,  too?" 

"No,  I  never  do.  Henry  does  that  the  first  thing 
in  the  morning." 

"Are  you  sure  he  does?  You  try  her  with  some 
water  before  you  give  her  any  oats  and  notice  if 
she  seems  to  want  it.  Very  few  of  us  know  how 
these  noble  animals  suffer  from  the  neglect  of  their 
inferiors." 

"If  I  find  you're  right  I'll  make  Mr.  Henry  drink 
a  bucket  of  that  water  himself  instead  of  the  pint  of 
beer  he  gets  with  his  dinner  every  day." 

"Well,  to  get  back  to  the  point  we  started  from," 
said  Frank.  "How  does  the  fact  of  the  horse  and 
dogcart  being  in  Falmouth  affect  any  theory  you 
may  have  had  about  my  father's  disappearance  ?" 

"I  can't  say  that  I've  had  any  theory,  but  we  can 
tell  better  when  we  find  out  who  drove  into  the 
stableyard  of  the  Union.  That  seems  to  me  the 
main  thing." 

"Of  course.  I  don't  know  why  I  should  have 
taken  it  for  granted  that  he  did,  except  that  it 
seemed  naturally  to  follow  from  the  fact  of  his 
having  driven  away  from  home." 

"How  do  you  know  he  did  ?  You  have  no  knowl- 
edge of  him  from  the  time  he  went  to  Camruth  the 
day  before,  have  you  ?" 

"No.  I  took  it  for  granted  that  he  came  home 
late  and  left  early  the  next  morning.  I  couldn't 
know  as  I  was  ill  in  bed.  But  he  may  have  gone 


anD  tfte  Puftlican 


straight  from  Camruth  to  Falmouth.  If  he  came 
home  late  he  would  put  away  the  horse  himself,  as 
I  do.  William  has  been  told  never  to  wait  after 
ten  o'clock." 

"Probably  it  doesn't  matter  much  now  whether 
he  came  home  or  not.  William  can  tell  if  the  stable 
was  occupied.  But,  seeing  that  you  have  taken  it 
for  granted  that  he  came  home,  perhaps  you  haven't 
considered  the  matter  in  the  light  of  a  possible  at- 
tempt at  robbery,  have  you?" 

"No.  How  could  it  be?"  asked  Frank,  much  in- 
terested. 

"Well,  you  know  your  father  had  always  been 
in  the  habit  of  bringing  the  money  for  the  pay  on 
Saturday  home  with  him  on  Thursday.  Everybody 
knew  that,  and  somebody  may  have  thought  he  was 
doing  it  that  Thursday  evening,  but,  as  a  matter 
of  fact,  the  practice  had  been  discontinued  only  the 
week  before.  Now,  the  manager  always  fetches  the 
cash  on  Saturday  morning,  and  is  accompanied  by 
one  other  man  besides  the  driver.  I  believe  the 
bank  had  got  wind  of  something.  Capt.  Shuffler 
told  me  this  himself." 

"And  so  my  father  may  have  been  killed  and  the 
horse  driven  to  Falmouth  by  the  murderer." 

"Possibly.  That  is  only  a  suggestion,  you  know. 
We  shall  probably  be  able  to  tell  better  if  there  is 
anything  in  it  after  we  have  been  to  Falmouth." 

"Yes,  I  think  we  had  better  go  there  even  if  the 
horse  has  been  sold." 


Cfce 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Frank  was  not  the  only  one  who  felt  the  need  of 
society  at  Redborne.  Gertrude  was  just  as  unhappy. 
Until  lately  she  had  been  away  at  school  and  had 
been  unaccustomed  for  any  lengthened  period  to  be 
without  companions  of  her  own  age  and  tastes. 
Household  cares  occupied  most  of  her  day,  but  a 
desire  for  the  society  of  her  kind  was  all  the  more 
keenly  felt  as  a  relaxation  from  these. 

John  seemed  to  feel  no  such  need,  or,  if  he  did, 
kept  the  reflection  to  himself,  but  nobody  had  any 
very  clear  notion  what  he  did  with  his  time.  The 
business  that  he  was  now  engaged  in  kept  him  fairly 
located  during  the  hours  usually  devoted  to  affairs, 
but  there  was  nothing  in  it  calling  for  strenuous 
exertion,  and  consequently  he  had  a  good  deal  of 
spare  time  to  devote  to  whatever  interested  him 
most. 

Women  are  more  dependent  on  society  than  men. 
They  must  talk.  They  are  like  a  kettle  on  the  fire 
which  in  due  time  must  boil  over.  They  cannot 
contain  themselves  any  longer  but  must  let  off  steam 
on  somebody.  Men,  on  the  other  hand,  go  away 
long  distances  alone  or  become  hermits  without  any 


anD  tf)e  ptifiltom 


apparent  difficulty.  They  have  no  such  impelling 
need  for  sympathy,  but  find  themselves  quite  able 
to  carry  on  almost  any  pursuit  without  a  partner. 
Frank  was  of  a  very  independent  temper,  and  prob- 
ably would  have  maintained  his  isolation  had  not 
Mitchell  advanced  first,  but  he  very  soon  found  Tom 
to  be  possessed  of  such  sterling  qualities  that  he 
would  have  been  glad  to  know  him  under  any  cir- 
cumstances. He  had  a  faculty  for  taking  a  whim- 
sical view  of  everything  and  seeming  never  to  be 
serious,  but  truth  and  honor  were  things  that  he 
never  trifled  with,  and  he  was  never  known  to  do 
an  unmanly  or  ungenerous  action.  His  chief  de- 
light seemed  to  be  to  ridicule  prigs  and  snobs. 

Gertrude  must  have  friends,  or,  at  least,  some- 
body on  whom  she  could  pour  out  the  stream  of 
pent  up  words  which  threatened  to  burst  its  banks 
and  flood  the  plain  with  tears,  but  her  outlook  was 
no  more  promising  than  Frank's,  and  if  she  made 
a  more  unfortunate  choice,  she  could  hardly  be 
blamed,  seeing  her  greater  need.  The  companion 
she  chose  was  in  her  way  something  of  a  public 
character,  like  Frank's  friend,  for  her  associations 
were  intimate  with  the  indoor  life  of  all  in  the 
parish  who  were  in  the  habit  of  employing  a  dress- 
maker. She  was  the  chief  repository  for  all  the 
idle  tales  that  flourished  in  the  community  and  acted 
as  common  carrier  for  all  the  gossips.  At  first  she 
came  to  the  Easts'  only  to  sew,  but  she  very  soon 
began  to  talk,  and,  after  a  while,  Gertrude  got  into 


78 Cfte 

the  habit  of  calling  at  her  house  to  get  her  to  come 
to  work  and  sometimes  even  spending  half  an  hour 
there  with  her  mother.  Occasionally  she  would  walk 
home  with  Martha  after  her  day's  work  was  done, 
as  the  path  led  almost  the  whole  way  through  what 
were  once  her  father's  fields,  and  this  was  all  very 
well  as  long  as  the  summer  lasted,  but  soon  it  began 
to  grow  dark  after  she  had  remained  chatting  for  a 
while,  and  Martha's  brother,  a  handsome  young 
miner,  had  to  see  her  safely  home  again.  Before 
very  long  it  appeared  as  though  these  visits  to  Mar- 
tha's cottage  were  undertaken  for  the  express  pur- 
pose of  the  return  journey,  and  Frank  began  to  be 
troubled  in  spirit  about  another  difficulty.  "Church 
and  State  I  believe  myself  competent  to  deal  with," 
he  said  to  himself,  "but  woman  is  beyond  me.  If 
Gertrude  will  not  respect  the  proprieties,  I  suppose 
I  cannot  help  it,  but  it  will  not  do  for  me  to  over- 
look the  matter  altogether.  It  is  an  unpleasant  job, 
but  I  must  speak  to  her  about  it."  So,  one  evening, 
as  she  came  in,  he  took  an  opportunity  of  suggest- 
ing to  her  that,  as  she  was  without  a  mother,  she 
might  occasionally  ask  herself  if  she  was  in  all 
respects  acting  just  as  she  knew  a  mother  would  like 
her  to  act,  or,  if  she  were  herself  a  mother,  as  she 
would  like  her  daughter  to  act,  but  it  was  evident 
that  something  of  the  kind  had  been  expected  and 
prepared  for,  as  he  was  met  with  a  tu  quoque. 

"Yes,  I  know  the  opinion  in  which  I  am  held  here 
because  of  my  association  with  Mitchell,  but  he  has 


anD  tftc  Pufiliran 


virtues  which  these  little  people  are  unable  to  ap- 
preciate. I  am  also  quite  willing  to  allow  that  the 
Eddys  are  very  estimable  people,  but  you  know  your- 
self that  the  social  code  is  being  strained  when  two 
young  people  of  opposite  sexes  are  much  together 
after  dark.  If  I  got  into  the  habit  of  walking  with 
a  miner's  daughter  in  the  evenings,  her  father  would 
have  good  cause  to  keep  her  indoors.  I  hope  you 
will  see  the  application  and  accept  a  suggestion 
kindly  offered  rather  than  give  occasion  for  com- 
ment by  others  who  may  not  be  so  considerate." 

The  "thank  you"  with  which  this  speech  was  re- 
ceived sounded  very  much  more  like  "Mind  your 
own  business"  as  far  as  accent  went,  but,  at  any 
rate,  either  that,  or  something  else,  was  effectual  in 
keeping  Miss  Gertrude  at  home  in  the  evenings,  at 
least  for  a  while. 

Frank  himself  was  suffering  from  no  such  criti- 
cism and  as  a  kind  of  continuous  entertainment  in 
the  shape  of  a  Fisheries  Exhibition  was  in  progress 
at  Camruth  at  this  time,  it  had  become  his  practice 
to  spend  the  evening  there.  There  was  a  concert 
each  night,  and  he  was  extremely  fond  of  good 
music,  having  himself  a  voice  of  unusual  range, 
good  power,  and  excellent  quality,  besides  being  able 
to  play  more  than  one  instrument  with  considerable 
taste  and  as  much  skill  as  is  usually  acquired  by  one 
who  does  not  rob  more  serious  pursuits  of  the  time 
which  they  demand.  There  was  a  very  capable 
organist  at  Camruth,  and  his  recitals  at  the  exhibi- 


Cfre 


tion  were  appreciated  by  none  more  than  Frank,  but 
singing  he  liked  better  than  anything  instrumental 
when  it  was  really  good,  and  on  two  or  three  occa- 
sions he  had  heard  what  he  called  really  good  sing- 
ing. A  girl  whom  he  had  known  when  she  was 
quite  a  child  had  now  grown  up  and  developed  a 
voice  of  remarkable  quality  which  had  been  carefully 
nurtured  at  the  Royal  Academy  of  Music  in  London, 
and  she  was  now  at  home  for  what  possibly  might 
be  a  vacation  or  a  rest  before  either  continuing  her 
studies  on  the  continent  or  trying  her  wings  in  her 
native  air.  She  sang  one  night  a  simple  ballad, 
for  she  knew  that  any  vocal  display,  such  as  the 
most  ordinary  operatic  air  would  have  been  in  Cam- 
ruth,  would  be  out  of  place,  and,  whatever  the  re- 
sult may  have  been  on  the  audience  in  general,  nine 
out  of  ten  of  whom  were  not  in  the  least  capable 
of  deriving  the  exquisite  joy  of  a  musician  from  the 
purity  of  tone  and  flawless  rendering  of  the  song, 
though  they  applauded  till  the  building  shook,  one 
man  was  overcome,  one  strong  man  was  bent  like 
a  willow  twig.  Under  the  influence  of  that  thrill- 
ing melody  his  iron  will  and  independent  spirit  had 
disappeared  and  the  beautiful  vision  that  had  come 
and  lifted  him  up  into  the  environment  of  her  own 
heaven  might  have  taken  him  captive  and  led  him 
into  any  folly.  At  her  bidding  he  would  have  made 
himself  as  ridiculous  as  any  other  idiot  he  could 
gleefully  laugh  at  under  similar  stress.  If  Mitchell 


anD  tlir  publican 81 

could  only  for  one  moment  look  into  the  apology 
for  a  mind  that  was  left  him  now! 

This  is  the  great  compensation  which  those  of 
finer  fibre  have  because  a  large  share  of  the  good 
things  of  this  world  are  not  distributed  to  them: 
those  that  do  come  they  can  enjoy.  What  are 
gorgeous  sunsets,  beautiful  pictures,  and  heaven- 
sent music  to  the  average  millionaire?  If  he  has 
made  his  money  out  of  pork,  the  sight  of  a  well 
"dressed"  hog  brings  the  greatest  delight  his  soul 
is  capable  of,  and  if  it  came  to  him  from  a  run  of 
luck  in  the  "pit,"  it  may  be  that  he  shares  with 
the  tinhorn  gambler  some  of  the  excitement  that 
comes  from  such  ventures,  but  of  the  real  pleasures 
of  life  he  knows  no  more  than  the  horse  he  drives. 

Still,  artistic  delight  is  one  thing  and  to  make  a 
fool  of  yourself  over  a  girl  is  another,  but  it  is  by 
no  means  an  uncommon  occurrence  for  an  impres- 
sionable youth — for  juvenility  is  always  plastic,  no 
matter  how  stubborn  it  may  be — to  attempt  to  join 
in  the  worship  of  Melpomene  or  Terpsichore  and 
find  himself  seated  at  the  feet  of  Venus. 

Frank  determined  that  when  the  concert  was  over 
he  would  take  advantage  of  the  intimacy  of  other 
days  and  compliment  the  fair  singer  on  her  tri- 
umph. There  was  no  outlet  for  the  entertainers  ex- 
cept through  the  crowd  of  promenaders  on  the  floor 
below  the  gallery  in  which  he  was,  and  he  sat  and 
watched  for  his  quarry  with  such  impatience  that 
the  minutes  seemed  to  him  as  though  they  slowly 


82 Cfte 

dragged  themselves  along  to  mock  his  restless  soul. 
In  truth  but  two  numbers  had  followed  Miriam's 
song  when  she  came  from  the  left  of  the  stage  for- 
ward into  the  throng,  which  she  had  no  sooner  done 
than  she  was  joined  by  a  tall  and  dark  man,  whose 
face  Frank  could  not  see,  and  immediately  left  the 
hall  before  any  of  those  who  would  have  pressed 
forward  to  congratulate  her  were  aware  that  she 
had  gone. 

Poor  Frank!  All  of  us  over  twenty  have  gone 
through  it  and  Frank  himself  had  felt  the  same 
thing  before,  but  he  was  none  the  less  restless  and 
unhappy  on  that  acount.  Every  time  it  occurs  it 
appears  to  be  the  first  and  only  time  that  the  genuine 
passion  has  ever  been  felt,  but  after  a  vigorous 
springtime  and  a  healthy  summer,  if  no  canker  at- 
tacks it  before,  it  generally  succumbs  to  the  first 
frost,  though  it  has  been  known  to  last  till  the  thaw. 
The  stump  does  not  die,  though,  and  usually  may  be 
grafted  with  success  next  spring. 


publican  83 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Falmouth  could  be  reached  from  Redborne  by  a 
drive  of  thirty-five  miles,  but  few  would  think  of 
taking  it.  There  was  scarcely  any  communication 
between  the  two  places,  but  any  one  making  the 
journey  would  drive  to  Camruth  and  from  there 
take  the  train  to  Truro  and  down  the  other  leg  of 
the  Y  to  his  destination.  Thirty-five  miles  would 
be  considered  an  ordinary  day's  work  for  a  horse 
in  California,  but  in  England,  where  the  roads  are 
far  better  and  the  climate  much  more  conducive  to 
comfort  in  open  air  work,  anything  beyond  twenty 
miles  would  be  considered  excessive.  Even  that 
would  not  be  done  two  days  following,  as,  for 
instance,  in  driving  to  a  place  and  returning  next 
day;  consequently  Frank  did  not  give  the  subject 
a  thought  when  he  and  Tom  Mitchell  set  out  to- 
gether to  find  out  what  had  become  of  Bob.  Tom 
was  in  good  spirits,  for  he  dearly  loved  to  get  away 
from  Redborne  for  a  day  or  two,  though  his  old 
passion  for  more  extensive  roving  had  long  since 
disappeared,  but  Frank  was  moody  and  inclined 
to  be  silent.  Of  course,  a  man  of  Mitchell's  experi- 
ence was  not  long  in  accurately  diagnosing  the  com- 


84 Cfte 

plaint  and  in  administering  medicine.  He  hadn't 
much  faith  in  any  cure  but  disillusion,  but  ridicule 
sometimes  had  an  alterative  effect  and  from  his 
point  of  view  was  very  pleasant  to  administer,  if  not 
to  take. 

"You  don't  seem  to  be  anxious  to  deliver  a  homily 
on  anything  this  morning,"  he  said,  as  they  drove 
along  toward  Camruth.  "I  suppose  you  haven't  fin- 
ished incubating  yet." 

"And  you  can't  wait  till  the  chick  is  hatched  but 
must  break  the  shell  yourself." 

"I  think  your  egg  is  addle  this  time,  my  bird. 
I've  sat  on  a  good  many  eggs  of  that  kind  myself, 
but  the  time  spent  on  them  was  always  wasted." 

"How  can  you  possibly  know  what  I'm  thinking 
about?" 

"I  know  you've  been  to  that  Fisheries  Exhibi- 
tion every  night  for  a  week,  and  that  the  weather 
most  of  the  time  has  been  vile.  I  also  know  that 
nothing  but  a  woman  will  make  a  man  behave  like 
that.  You  don't  suppose  that  I  thought  you  had 
developed  a  sudden  passion  for  fish,  do  you?  An- 
other thing:  if  there  wasn't  a  woman  in  the  case 
you  would  have  asked  me  to  go  with  you." 

"I  shouldn't  wonder  if  you're  right.  It  had  not 
occurred  to  me  that  I  was  suffering  from  any  mal- 
ady, but  from  what  you  say  I  suppose  I  must  be. 
Well,  she's  a  very  fine  girl." 

"Oh,  no  doubt.     She  always  is.     I  don't  know 


tftc  puiiiican 85 

her,  but  I'll  admit  that  right  off.  Still,  if  I  were 
you,  I  should  take  a  strong  emetic  at  once." 

"Indeed!    What  would  you  recommend?" 

"Well,  most  people  under  these  circumstances 
try  to  divert  a  man's  attention  and  lead  him  off 
after  other  pursuits,  but  there  they  show  their  ig- 
norance. If  I  wanted  a  man  to  drop  a  girl  I  would 
give  him  a  surfeit  of  her.  Perhaps  it  wouldn't 
work  with  some  men,  but  it  was  always  effective 
with  me." 

"But  suppose  you  can't  get  near  her,  how  does 
your  plan  work  then?" 

"Can't  get  near  her  ?  Oh,  you're  not  so  bad  after 
all.  When  a  man  is  really  smitten  he  can't  be  kept 
away  from  her  vicinity  with  a  shotgun,  but  yours,  I 
see,  is  a  case  of  divinity  worship — fear  to  approach 
and  all  that.  Now,  there  aren't  any  divinities  in 
the  flesh,  my  son,  and  the  sooner  you  approach  and 
get  the  thing  over,  the  better  it  will  be  for  your 
peace  of  mind.  You  have  too  much  on  your  hands 
just  now  to  be  able  to  find  any  time  for  worship." 

"You're  altogether  too  matter-of-fact,  Mitchell. 
You  miss  all  the  good  things  of  life.  There  is  noth- 
ing really  enjoyable  but  has  its  foundation  in  sen- 
timent. The  gross,  animal  pleasures  are  not  to  be 
considered  beside  those  which  affect  what  is  usually 
referred  to  as  the  heart." 

"I  know  we're  differently  constituted  and  that  I 
was  never  so  romantic  as  you — perhaps  haven't 
sympathies  of  so  refined  a  nature — but  as  I  have 


86 Cfte 

grown  older  I  have  never  seen  reason  to  shake  my 
faith  in  the  belief  that  anything  sentimental  which 
will  interfere  with  a  man's  appetite  or  sleep,  or 
cause  him  to  be  moody,  discontented  and  solitary, 
is  any  other  than  a  disease  and  should  be  treated 
as  such.  This  particular  craziness  about  a  woman 
is  the  worst  disease  there  is,  and  is  only  aggravated 
by  our  social  customs.  As  soon  as  the  first  symp- 
toms appear  a  man  ought  to  be  treated  to  a  surfeit 
of  his  innamorata  and  if  he  doesn't  get  nauseated 
in  less  than  a  week  he  isn't  worth  saving." 

"Innamorate  know  better  than  to  make  them- 
selves cheap  to  every  quack  who  would  like  to  use 
them  as  prescriptions." 

It  is  not  much  use  interfering  with  one  who  is 
suffering  from  the  malady  whicji  has  troubled  man 
ever  since  there  began  to  be  competition  for  the 
hand  of  a  woman,  and,  though  Mitchell  made  spas- 
modic efforts  to  arouse  Frank  to  some  sense  of  his 
surroundings,  they  completed  their  journey  to  Cam- 
ruth  with  very  little  further  conversation.  On  the 
train  Mitchell  found  others  with  whom  he  could 
while  away  the  hours,  and  when  they  reached  Fal- 
mouth  there  were  many  old  friends  he  expected  to 
meet  again. 

From  the  train  they  went  straight  to  the  Union 
Hotel  where  they  found  that  Bob  and  the  dogcart 
still  were. 

"Yes,  I  shall  be  very  sorry  to  lose  him,"  said  the 
landlord,  when  Mitchell  had  satisfactorily  proved 


and  tfje  Pufalican       87 

to  his  friend  Frank's  ownership  of  the  horse,  "I 
have  been  using  him  myself,  and  a  better  horse  I 
never  drove.  We  found  out  his  name,  too,  for  one 
day  I  was  having  a  rather  animated  discussion  with 
a  man  I  was  driving  when  I  offered  several  times 
to  bet  him  five  bob  and  it  seemed  to  me  that  the 
horse  pricked  up  his  ears  and  gave  a  start  every 
time  I  spoke.  I  shouldn't  have  put  it  down  to  the 
right  cause,  however,  if  he  hadn't  answered  to  his 
name  one  day  in  the  yard  when  a  namesake  of  his 
was  being  spoken  to  by  the  ostler." 

"But  you  haven't  told  us  yet  how  he  came  here, 
Mr.  Williams,"  said  Frank. 

"Well,  he  just  walked  in,  so  Dick  says.  When 
he  looked  round  there  was  the  horse  standing  in 
the  middle  of  the  yard  waiting  to  be  put  away,  and 
he  just  did  what  he  ordinarily  would  under  such 
circumstances.  It  doesn't  often  happen,  of  course, 
but  once  in  a  while  a  man  in  a  hurry  will  drive 
to  the  yard  gate,  jump  off  and  let  the  horse  walk 
in.  This  is  generally  a  regular  customer,  but  the 
thing  wasn't  so  unusual  as  to  make  Dick  think 
there  was  anything  extraordinary  about  it." 

"Well,  that's  curious,  1  must  say,"  remarked 
Mitchell.  "Didn't  anybody  come  in  during  the 
day  that  claimed  ownership?  Wasn't  there  any 
strange  man  in  the  bar  that  you  can  think  of  as 
being  likely  to  be  the  owner?  Do  you  remember 
any  man,  say,  about  five  foot  seven  in  height,  of 
stocky  build,  with  a  short,  full  beard  turning  gray 


Cfte 


— a  man  not  altogether  unlike  yourself  in  appear- 
ance, but  not  quite  so  tall?" 

"You  may  think  that  I  have  tried  every  means 
to  find  out  whose  horse  it  was,  but  there  was  no- 
body in  the  hotel  that  day  that  we  could  suppose 
was  the  owner,  nor  have  I  been  able  to  find  any- 
body who  saw  the  dogcart  arrive.  It  was  in  the 
early  morning  before  there  was  anybody  much 
about  and  nobody  knows  how  long  the  horse  was 
standing  there  before  Dick  saw  him.  He  never 
heard  him  come  in  and  had  been  busy  in  the  stables 
for  an  hour  or  more." 

"This  is  very  extraordinary,"  said  Mitchell,  "I 
have  seen  some  funny  things  in  curious  places,  but 
never  did  I  come  across  anything  to  beat  this. 
Let's  go  and  clarify  our  intelligence  with  a 
drink." 

After  the  interview  between  Frank  and  Bob 
there  could  be  no  doubt  as  to  who  owned  the 
horse.  He  no  sooner  heard  Frank's  voice  than  it 
became  perfectly  evident  in  which  stall  he  was 
secured.  He  whinnied,  rattled  his  chain,  stamped 
his  feet,  and,  when  Frank  went  in  to  him,  trem- 
bled all  over  with  excitement,  but  on  Frank's  step- 
ping to  his  side,  he  calmly  laid  his  chin  on  his 
master's  shoulder  and  looked  across  at  the  others 
with  an  expression  of  quiet  content  in  his  big 
brown  eyes. 

Although  the  distance  from  Falmouth  to  Red- 
borne  was  beyond  what  was  considered  a  fair  day's 


mitt  tfte  Publican 


work  for  a  horse,  it  is  hardly  to  be  supposed  that 
East  and  Mitchell  would  emulate  the  performance 
of  the  old  man  and  his  son  in  yEsop's  fable,  who 
carried  the  ass  between  them,  and  take  Bob  home 
by  train,  so  they  prepared  to  remain  at  Falmouth 
for  the  night  and  make  a  reasonably  early  start 
the  next  day.  Neither  belonged  to  the  fraternity 
who  seem  to  think  that  nothing  worth  while  can 
be  accomplished  without  torturing  themselves  by 
rising  before  the  sun,  as  an  old  chap  in  Redborne 
did  whenever  he  had  a  letter  to  write,  the  mail 
leaving  at  2  P.  M.,  and  they  knew  that  Bob  would 
need  no  urging  to  make  good  time  on  his  home- 
ward way. 

During  their  stay  in  the  town  the  travellers  made 
every  effort  to  find  some  clue  to  the  mystery  they 
were  trying  to  solve,  but  without  the  least  suc- 
cess. It  seemed  now  as  if  that  intelligent  animal 
Bob  had  been  abandoned  somewhere  in  the  vicin- 
ity to  his  own  devices  and  had  found  his  way  un- 
aided to  the  principal  hotel  in  the  town,  which, 
however,  was  very  near  the  junction  of  the  High 
Street  with  the  road  from  Camruth. 

As  to  Falmouth  itself  little  need  be  said.  It 
is  not  an  attractive  town,  though  the  suburbs  are 
not  without  beauties  of  their  own,  as  might  be 
expected  from  their  situation  on  the  high  banks  of 
a  wooded  river  which  there  meets  the  sea,  but  the 
town  itself,  like  so  many  others  which  have  not 
made  use  of  the  advantages  lavished  upon  them  by 


9Q    Cfte 

nature,  is   without  any   redeeming  feature   of  its 
own. 

It  will  be  supposed  that  the  two  men  were  on 
the  alert  on  the  homeward  trip  for  any  indica- 
tion which  might  point  to  a  clue,  but  at  such  a  dis- 
tance of  time  it  was  not  likely  that  anything  would 
be  lying  on  the  road  or  hanging  from  a  hedge 
which  would  have  a  familiar  appearance.  There 
were  no  mine  shafts  near  that  road,  so  it  was  im- 
possible that  Mr.  East's  body  could  have  been  made 
away  with  by  being  thrown  into  one  of  them,  as 
would  have  been  so  easy  on  the  moors  across  which 
the  road  led  from  Redborne  to  Camruth,  though  it 
was  an  excellent  locality  for  the  operations  of  high- 
waymen, as  the  habitations  were  extremely  few 
and  very  far  between,  nor  were  there  any  dangers 
to  be  overcome  like  swollen  streams  or  awkward 
corners  overhanging  a  yawning  gulf.  But  the 
theory  of  highway  robbery  seemed  absurd  as  no 
such  thing  had  happened  in  West  Cornwall  in  the 
memory  of  man.  Once  a  few  hundred  pounds  in 
a  leather  bag,  being  transferred  from  the  Cam- 
ruth bank  to  its  branch  at  Redborne,  had  been  re- 
moved from  the  "boot"  of  a  'bus  unobserved  by 
the  driver,  but  that  peaceful  community  had  long 
endured  poverty  without  resort  to  robbery  with 
violence. 


anD  t&e  Pti&lfom  91 


CHAPTER  X. 

One  morning,  before  Frank  was  dressed,  Paul 
Young,  the  butcher,  arrived  on  urgent  business, 
and  Frank  hurried  down  to  meet  him.  From  his 
pocket  the  butcher  took  a  paper  which  he  handed 
to  Frank  with  the  remark: 

"This  was  found  upon  the  bridge  this  morning 
by  my  little  girl." 

Frank  took  it,  and,  on  opening  it,  found  it  to 
be  a  draft  for  the  proceeds  of  the  last  month's  sale 
of  tin  by  Redborne  Consols.  Seeing  which,  he 
said: 

"This  ought  to  have  come  to  me  by  post  yes- 
terday, Mr.  Young,  and  I  was  surprised  that  it 
did  not.  How  it  could  have  got  out  of  its  envelope 
and  been  found  on  the  bridge  is  something  that  I 
cannot  understand,  can  you?" 

"No,  I  certainly  cannot,  but  I  suppose  you  ought 
to  have  it?" 

"Of  course,  but  I  will  at  once  write  to  the  bank 
and  give  them  an  account  of  how  it  got  here.  I 
am  much  obliged  to  you  for  bringing  it.  Is  there 
nothing  else  you  can  tell  me  about  it?" 


Cfte 


"That  is  all  I  know.  My  daughter  handed  it  to 
me,  and  I  brought  it  here  at  once." 

When  the  butcher  had  gone,  Frank  found  John 
and  asked  him  if  he  knew  whether  the  Redborne 
Consols  draft  had  arrived  the  day  before  or  not. 

"No,"  he  replied,  "of  course  it  didn't.  You 
remember  what  the  letters  were.  There  were  only 
two:  one  for  Gertrude  and  the  bill  from  Hender- 
son for  coal." 

"Well,  Paul  Young  has  just  brought  the  draft 
here,  and  says  his  daughter  found  it  on  the  bridge. 
How  do  you  account  for  that?" 

"That's  plain  enough.  It's  the  result  of  the 
stupidity  or  malice  of  those  post-office  people.  I 
told  them  to  take  letters  for  the  mine  to  Captain 
Shuffler  or  deliver  them  to  the  boy,  but  specially 
excepted  all  letters  addressed  directly  to  you. 
Either  this  one  wasn't  addressed  by  name  to  you 
or  else  they  saw  an  opportunity  to  be  ugly  and  took 
advantage  of  it." 

"That  doesn't  account  for  its  being  loose.  Har- 
man  might  have  dropped  it  when  out  delivering 
letters,  but  you  have  to  account  for  its  getting  out 
of  the  envelope,"  said  Frank. 

"And  that's  simple  enough,  too.  If  he  dropped 
it,  anybody  —  a  child  most  likely  —  would  pick  it  up 
and  open  it,  and,  not  finding  anything  interesting, 
would  throw  it  away  again." 

"I  have  thought  of  that,  but  it  seems  to  me  more 
likely  that  it  was  delivered  to  Captain  Shuffler,  who 


and  tfie  Pufrltom 93 

opened  it  and  gave  the  draft  to  a  messenger — prob- 
ably to  that  bright  son  of  his — who  lost  it  when 
bringing  it  here." 

"That  might  be.  Anyhow,  it  is  a  blessing  it 
was  found  uninjured." 

"Yes,  but  I  must  report  the  matter  to  the  bank 
and  there'll  be  an  investigation.  Everybody  con- 
cerned will  try  and  shield  himself,  and  there's  no 
knowing  where  the  blame  will  ultimately  fall." 

Frank  at  once  wrote  Ellis  &  Dee,  detailing  sim- 
ply the  facts  as  he  knew  them  without  hazarding 
any  guesses  to  account  for  the  occurrence. 

For  some  days  nothing  further  was  heard  of  the 
matter,  both  the  post-office  people  and  Captain 
Shuffler  denying  all  knowledge  of  it,  but  it  was  not 
long  before  a  post-office  inspector  arrived  and  ex- 
amined into  the  affair  thoroughly.  Frank  could 
only  repeat  to  him  what  he  had  already  told  the 
bank,  with  the  addition  that  nothing  further  had 
transpired  to  throw  any  light  on  the  question,  but 
after  a  visit  to  the  post  office  he  came  back  to  say 
that  the  brother  of  the  postmistress  had  told  him 
that  on  a  certain  day  since  the  draft  was  missed 
Frank  had  informed  him  that  it  had  been  delivered, 
but  he  had  lost  it. 

"What  an  infamous  lie!"  immediately  exclaimed 
Frank.  "Why,  you  have  only  to  ask  my  brother, 
who  always  gets  the  letters,  to  disprove  any  such 
story  as  that  in  an  instant." 

"Well,  before  I  do  that,  have  you  any  objection 


Cfre  Pimrfgee 


to  this  man  making  the  statement  in  your  presence, 
if  he  will?" 

"Not  a  bit.     He'll  hardly  dare  to." 

The  inspector  went  out  and  came  back  with  the 
man,  who  actually  had  the  hardihood  to  repeat  the 
statement  and  to  say  that  it  was  made  to  him  when 
he  was  accompanying  Frank  to  the  mine.  After 
his  return  home  he  had  written  it  down  and  now 
read  it  from  the  memorandum  then  made. 

For  a  moment  or  two  Frank  was  too  astounded 
to  speak,  but  to  the  inspector's  question  as  to  what 
he  had  to  say,  he  replied  : 

"Well,  I  certainly  never  heard  more  deliberate 
falsehood  than  that.  Aside  from  the  fact  that  that 
memorandum  is  not  evidence  and  that  the  writer 
of  it  is  brother  of  the  postmistress,  it  would  be 
impossible  that  I  could  have  made  such  a  state- 
ment to  him  because  the  last  time  I  was  ever  in  his 
company  was  when  I  incautiously  invited  him  to 
go  with  me  to  the  mine  on  the  day  I  went  there 
to  audit  the  pay  and  before  the  tin  for  which  this 
draft  was  payment  was  sold.  I  overtook  him  in 
the  lane,  and,  knowing  him  to  be  an  old  mine  agent, 
I  thought  he  would  be  interested  and  would  like  a 
glass  of  grog  and  a  chat  with  the  agents." 

"I  have  also  been  told,  Mr.  East,"  pursued  the 
inspector  without  remarking  on  this  speech,  "that 
you  have  been  in  the  habit  of  going  to  Paul 
Young's  to  play  cards,  and  it  is  suggested  that  you 


anD  tftc  puBltom 95 

took  this  draft  out  of  your  pocket  as  security  for 
some  of  your  losses." 

"Same  informant,  I  suppose?  Now,  just  no- 
tice how  far  from  the  truth  any  such  slander  can 
be.  I  would  no  more  think  of  playing  cards  than 
I  would  marbles — not  because  I  think  it  immoral, 
but  simply  because  I  should  be  ashamed  to  waste 
my  time  in  any  such  way.  If  I  wanted  to,  how- 
ever, I  should  not  go  to  Paul  Young's  to  do  it,  nor 
should  I  produce  that  draft  in  the  house  of  a  share- 
holder in  the  mine.  These  things  you  can  ask  Paul 
about,  but  is  there  any  other  cheerful  calumny  that 
you  can  relate?" 

"I  should  like  to  see  your  brother,  please." 

Frank  submitted  humbly  to  all  this,  for,  having 
allowed  it  to  begin,  he  thought  it  best  to  let  it 
continue  to  the  end  that  he  might  gather  some  in- 
formation as  to  the  esteem  in  which  he  was  held 
by  this  extraordinary  community,  so  he  called  in 
John,  who,  of  course,  denied  emphatically  that  the 
draft  had  ever  been  delivered  to  him. 

All  this  time  the  slanderer  had  been  standing 
meekly  by  with  his  hat  in  his  hand,  as  if  it  was  the 
most  ordinary  occurrence  that  he  should  be  accused 
of  lying.  Even  the  manifest  contradictions  and  ab- 
surdities in  his  statement,  when  pointed  out,  made 
no  impression  on  him  whatever,  and  he  did  not 
move  until  the  inspector  intimated  that  he  might 
retire. 

It  was  impossible  to  divine  from  the  manner  of 


96 Cfre 

the  inquisitor,  or  from  anything  that  he  said,  what 
opinion  he  had  formed,  for,  his  work  being  chiefly 
of  a  detective  nature,  he  had  acquired  a  secretive 
style  and  was  not  accustomed  to  share  his  views 
with  others.  Frank,  however,  cared  very  little 
what  they  were.  As  far  as  he  was  concerned,  the 
important  factor  was  that  the  draft  had  been  re- 
covered and  there  was  no  actual  harm  done.  How 
it  had  been  lost  He  cared  very  little  to  know.  Under 
these  circumstances  there  was  no  more  said  on 
either  side,  and  the  inspector  speedily  went  back 
into  the  obscurity  from  which  he  had  emerged, 
while  Frank  betook  himself  to  the  hotel  in  search 
of  Mitchell,  as  he  felt  badly  in  need  of  blowing 
off  his  safety  valve.  We  despise  wasps  and  flies — 
one  eastern  professor  advises  that  even  mosquitoes 
be  "ignored" — but  they  do  sting  and  bite  neverthe- 
less, and  when  petty  malice  stimulates  our  combus- 
tion, we  must  discharge  the  resultant  steam  upon 
some  cool  brow.  Mitchell's  was  emphatically  a 
brow  of  that  sort,  and,  however  old  he  might  be- 
come, it  seemed  likely  that  it  would  never  be  fur- 
rowed. He  looked  at  life  from  the  point  of  view 
of  "the  man  in  the  street"  and  seemed  to  be  with- 
out concern  in  the  strife  that  affected  others.  He 
took  a  humorous  view  of  the  situation,  was  readily 
moved  to  smiles  but  not  to  anger,  and  appeared  to 
think  that  there  really  was  not  anything  in  the 
heavens  above,  in  the  earth  beneath,  or  in  the 
waters  under  the  earth,  worth  quarreling  about  or 


and  tfte  publican 97 

getting  excited  over.  He  was  perfectly  in  accord 
with  Solomon  that  all  is  vanity  but  regarded  the 
outlook  with  greater  cheerfulness  than  that  sati- 
ated sage.  Such  a  friend  is  a  citadel  in  distress  to 
the  nervous  individual  who  worries  over  trifles 
from  the  time  he  opens  his  eyes  in  the  morning  till 
Morpheus  seals  them  up  again  at  night  and  whose 
very  dreams  are  distilled  from  the  fiery  vapors  left 
behind  by  the  terrors  that  have  possessed  his  un- 
quiet brain  by  day. 

When  Frank  arrived  he  found  the  barroom  oc- 
cupied by  Mitchell  and  his  wife  who  were  enter- 
taining themselves  by  watching  their  son  and  heir, 
four  years  old,  seated  in  an  armchair  smoking  a 
long  clay  pipe.  Mrs.  Mitchell,  a  large,  handsome, 
and  very  fresh  and  healthy-looking  woman,  seemed 
to  enjoy  the  performance  quite  as  much  as  her  hus- 
band, and  neither  seemed  to  be  in  the  least  con- 
scious of  the  impropriety  of  it.  As  for  Tom, 
Junior,  he  played  his  part  with  the  utmost  grav- 
ity, and  to  all  appearance  was  deriving  consider- 
able comfort  from  the  exercise. 

Mrs.  Mitchell  was  the  first  to  speak : 

"Seems  to  enjoy  it,  doesn't  he?"  she  asked, 
without  the  least  show  of  embarrassment. 

"That  looks  pretty  evident,"  replied  Frank,  "but 
do  you  regard  that  as  training  a  child  in  the  way 
he  should  go?" 

"That's  the  way  to  train  my  child,"  put  in 
Mitchell.  "What  other  people  think  right  to  do 


98 C6e  Pimtisee 

with  their  children  is  no  business  of  mine,  but  my 
boy  is  going  to  be  taught  that  nothing  he  sees  his 
father  do  is  wrong  for  him  to  do." 

"Drinking  hot  whisky  and  water,  for  instance," 
interpolated  Frank. 

"Certainly.  He  can  have  it  if  he  wants  it.  He 
does  have  a  spoonful  or  two  out  of  mine  once  in 
a  while,  but  he  doesn't  seem  to  care  much  about 
it." 

"Of  course,  I  have  no  business  to  criticize  any- 
thing you  may  choose  to  do,"  said  Frank,  "but  this 
interests  me,  and,  if  you  don't  mind,  I  should  like 
to  ask  if  you  think  this  freedom  will  be  beneficial 
on  the  whole." 

"I  am  not  a  bit  sensitive  about  criticism,  espe- 
cially from  you,"  replied  Mitchell,  "for,  if  I  were, 
you  could  very  soon  turn  the  tables  on  me,  for  I 
never  hesitate  a  minute  to  criticize  you — or  any- 
body else  for  that  matter.  My  belief  is  that  there 
is  nothing  which  will  so  powerfully  incline  the 
average  boy  to  do  a  thing  as  the  knowledge  that  it 
is  forbidden,  but  there  is  another  influence  that 
runs  it  pretty  close,  and  that  is  the  sight  of  what 
he  sees  his  elders  do.  I  am  not  in  the  business 
of  preaching  on  the  duties  of  parents,  but  for  my- 
self I  can  say  that  I  never  let  my  boy  see  me  do 
what  I  am  not  willing  that  he  should  do.  If  he 
wants  to  drink  or  smoke,  he  can  do  it  to  the  ex- 
tent he  sees  his  father  do  it,  but  if  he  takes  to 


ana  tfre  Pufrlkan 99 

lying,  or  cruelty,  I  flatter  myself  he'll  have  to  look 
elsewhere  to  learn  the  way." 

"I  believe  with  you  that  children  should  be 
trained  by  example  instead  of  precept,  for  no  child 
can  understand  that  what  is  wrong  for  him  is  right 
for  you  and  me,  but  the  application  of  the  prin- 
ciple to  alcohol  and  tobacco  seems  rather  risky." 

"If  I  find  it  hurting  him,  I'll  give  it  up  myself, 
but  I'll  not  ask  him  to  unless  I  do.  So  far  it 
hasn't  done  him  any  harm.  He  doesn't  care  a  bit 
about  either.  That  smoking  he  does  simply  to 
show  off.  He  never  does  it  when  alone,  though 
he  can  fill  up  and  light  all  by  himself  and  the  tools 
are  all  the  time  handy." 

"Well,  I  shall  watch  the  experiment  with  con- 
siderable interest,  but  I  did  not  come  here  to  talk 
about  that.  I  suppose  you  have  heard  about  the 
post-office  investigation  from  some  source  or 
other?" 

"Oh,  yes,  Paul  Young  told  me  all  he  knew.  He's 
as  bad  as  a  woman  except  in  matters  connected 
with  his  own  trade.  He  never  lets  out  any  of  those 
secrets,  but,  as  a  talebearer  he  takes  the  hot  cross 
bun." 

Frank  took  up  the  story  at  the  point  where  Paul 
had  necessarily  to  leave  off  and  continued  it  to  the 
point  where  the  brother  of  the  postmistress  took 
up  his  parable. 

"The  old  rascal,"  broke  in  Mitchell.     "Didn't  I 


tell  you  to  join  the  church?  Well,  go  on,  we'll 
get  back  to  that." 

Frank  continued  his  story  to  the  end  without 
further  interruption,  but  at  its  conclusion  Mitchell 
remarked : 

"Now,  we'll  have  a  glass  of  bitter  and  then  ride 
down  and  see  Billy.  You  want  to  air  yourself. 
You've  been  in  poor  company." 

"Well,  what  do  you  think  about  it,  anyway?" 

"I  don't  think  about  it,"  replied  Mitchell, 
"there's  nothing  lost — 110  harm  done.  If  there  was, 
I'd  make  them  think." 

"But  this  kind  of  thing  is  very  annoying." 

"Bah!  Fiddlesticks!  If  you  let  a  thing  like 
that  worry  you,  how  would  you  feel  if  the  draft 
had  been  lost,  or,  worse  still,  if  it  had  been  cashed 
and  the  money  lost?" 

"I  don't  believe  I  worry  so  much  over  actual 
calamities  as  I  do  over  mere  contretemps  like 
this." 

"So  I  have  observed.  You  were  in  a  pretty  bad 
hole  when  you  started  here,  but  you  bobbed  up  like 
a  cork.  Now  you're  suffering  from  the  evil-speak- 
ing and  uncharitableness  of  a  crowd  that  I  posi- 
tively take  less  notice  of  than  I  do  of  the  fowls 
out  in  our  back  yard.  The  clucking  of  a  hen  means 
that  an  egg  has  been  laid,  but  the  chatter  of  this 
rabble  is  nothing  more  to  me  than  the  cawing  of 
rooks.  They  have  stings  in  their  tails  like  wasps, 
but  there's  no  poison  in  them  unless  you  rub  the 


anD  tfte  Publican 101 

place.  They've  stung  me  a  good  deal  more  than 
they  have  you,  but  you  can  see  there's  not  a  mark 
on  me." 

It  took  them  but  a  short  time  to  saddle  their 
horses,  which  they  were  both  in  the  habit  of  doing 
themselves  whenever  they  started  without  due  no- 
tice. Their  men  were  sure  to  be  busy  about  some- 
thing else.  Whichever  finished  first  would  ride  out 
to  meet  the  other.  On  this  occasion  Frank  man- 
aged to  reach  the  front  of  the  hotel  just  as  the 
landlord  issued  from  the  back,  and  as  he  rode  up 
Frank  said: 

"The  mare's  looking  all  right  now.  What  was 
the  matter  with  her?" 

"Oh,  she's  as  fine  as  silk.  It  was  water  she 
wanted,  all  right.  I  gave  that  rascal  a  bucketful 
of  the  same  liquor,  but  he  didn't  seem  to  think  I 
meant  it  when  I  told  him  to  drink  it,  so  I  stood  him 
on  his  head  in  it." 

"You  made  the  punishment  fit  the  crime." 

"That's  what  I  did.  I  believe  in  the  quid  pro 
quo  every  time.  He  won't  neglect  to  water  that 
mare  any  more.  If  I  had  mentioned  to  him  po- 
litely that  I  would  like  him  to  have  a  regard  for 
the  mare's  thirst  he  might  some  day  forget  that 
I  had  expressed  a  wish  to  that  effect,  but  he  will 
not  fail  to  remember  the  occasion  when  he  dis- 
covered that  I  could  turn  him  upside  down.  Next 
time  he  will  expect  to  be  turned  inside  out." 

Now  that  Frank  had  Bob  again,  his  spirits  had 


102 QC 

manifestly  risen,  and  every  now  and  then  he  would 
jump  into  a  field  and  out  again  for  their  mutual 
pleasure,  but  Tom  Mitchell  forbore,  for  "the  good 
man  is  merciful  to  his  beast/'  and  he  weighed 
about  fifty  pounds  more  than  Frank. 

"When  you  two  are  tired  of  your  antics/'  ob- 
served Mitchell,  as  Bob  bounded  into  the  road  for 
the  seventh  or  eighth  time,  "perhaps  you'll  come 
back  and  be  quiet.  You  are  having  all  the  fun, 
while  I  am  getting  the  exercise.  The  mare  thinks 
she  can  jump  as  well  as  Bob,  but  I  am  not  going  to 
give  her  a  chance  to  try  to  take  the  mountain  to 
Mahomet." 

"All  right,  we'll  come  to  the  mountain,"  re- 
plied Frank,  and  forthwith  ranged  himself  along- 
side, the  mare  at  once  settling  down  to  a  steadier 
gait.  An  active  beast  is  all  very  well,  but  a  rest- 
less one  makes  a  man  weary. 

"So  you  wouldn't  take  my  advice  and  join  the 
church,"  began  Mitchell.  "You  see  what  your 
obstinacy  has  brought  on  you." 

"You  mean,  of  course,  that  difficulty  with  the 
post  office;  but  what  has  that  to  do  with  the 
church?" 

"In  the  first  place,  they  wouldn't  have  antago- 
nized you  at  all,  and  in  the  second  place,  if  any 
mistake  occurred,  they  wouldn't  try  to  blame  you 
for  it." 

"But  why  ?  They  don't  belong  to  the  church  any 
more  than  I  do,  do  they?" 


ana  tfjc  publican 103 

"Don't  you  know  that  that  old  rascal  that  lied 
about  you  goes  to  class  every  Sunday  morning  be- 
fore he  goes  to  chapel  and  teaches  in  the  Sunday- 
school  before  he  goes  to  chapel  in  the  evening?" 

"Oh,  I  see.  You  meant  the  Methodist  church. 
Do  you  really  suppose  that  I  could  with  a  grave 
face  take  part  in  an  irreverent  farce  such  as  they 
call  worship,  during  which  the  minister  several 
times  harangues  his  Creator  and  orders  him  about 
as  if  he  were  his  footman — come  here,  go  there, 
do  this,  do  that,  and  so  on?" 

"That's  neither  here  nor  there.  You  take  every- 
thing too  seriously.  You  are  not  in  the  least  bound 
to  do  or  believe  as  they  do.  I  merely  wanted  you 
to  pay  your  pew  rent  and  subscribe  to  the  missions. 
You'd  be  on  the  right  road  then  and  they'd  pray 
for  you  instead  of  lying  about  you." 

"I  have  no  doigbt  I  do  take  things  too  seriously, 
but  religion  at  any  rate  is  a  serious  matter,  and  I 
cannot  jest  about  it." 

"Nobody  asks  you  to.  I  think  my  beliefs  are 
pretty  much  the  same  as  yours,  only  you  trouble 
too  much  about  them.  For  my  part  I  don't  care 
two  straws  what  anbody  believes,  and  if  it  comes 
to  a  question  whether  I  will  pay  pew  rent  or  be 
persecuted  by  a  set  of  pestilent  vermin  that  I  am 
doomed  to  live  amongst  for  better,  for  worse,  I'll 
lay  down  the  coin." 

"Well,  I  won't.  I  will  not  temporize  with  a  lot 
of  ignorant  fanatics  like  these.  To  do  so  would  be 


104 Cfte 

simply  to  humiliate  knowledge  before  ignorance 
and  truth  before  bigotry." 

"All  right.  You  go  on  personating  truth  and 
knowledge,  and  I'll  back  ignorance  and  bigotry  to 
get  away  with  the  stakes." 

"Mitchell,   you're  an  opportunist." 

"East,  you're  another — another  martyr,  I  mean." 

After  a  pause,  which  lasted  while  they  let  their 
horses  out  for  a  gallop,  Mitchell  began  again  with : 

"Well,  what  about  the  girl?  Have  you  got  over 
that  attack  of  angina  pectoris  yet?" 

"I  have  been  trying  to  take  your  prescription, 
but  without  any  success.  I  have  been  to  Camruth 
nearly  every  day  and  have  become  an  altogether 
too  familiar  figure  on  the  promenade,  but  have  only 
seen  the  girl  once.  She  was  with  the  same  man  she 
disappeared  with  when  I  saw  her  the  first  night." 

"Do  you  know  either  of  them?" 

"The  girl  is  Miriam  Penrose,  but  I  don't  know 
the  man  at  all." 

"Well,  I  can  tell  you.  I  heard  that  Miriam  was 
home  again  and  that  she  had  developed  into  a  very 
fine  girl.  The  man  is  one  of  the  Ellis  boys  who 
has  just  come  home  from  Oxford.  He  doesn't 
mean  any  good,  and  I'm  astonished  that  Miriam 
doesn't  know  any  better  than  ito  be  seen  with 
him." 

"Women  never  seem  to  know  or  care  much  about 
the  character  of  the  men  they  allow  to  be  intimate 
with  them.  I  expect  this  one  has  learned  to 


anD  tfre  publican 105 

tolerate  many  things  in  London  which  would  have 
been  distasteful  before  she  left  home." 

"The  best  of  them  prefer  wild  game  to  the  do- 
mestic fowl.  The  most  successful  man  with  the 
women  belongs  to  a  type  that  we  haven't  much  re- 
spect for." 

"That's  natural.  I  am  glad  to  know  who  the  man 
is,  though.  I  thought  it  might  be  somebody  seri- 
ous." 

Here  Mitchell  imitated  the  crow  of  a  cock  with 
much  faithfulness,  considering  that  his  natural 
voice  was  a  rough  baritone. 

When  they  reached  the  Land's  End  it  was  later 
than  on  the  occasion  of  their  previous  visit,  and 
the  tourists  had  begun  to  arrive.  As  they  handed 
their  horses  over  to  an  ostler,  Mitchell  was  recog- 
nized by  a  former  employee  of  his,  who  touched 
his  hat. 

"Hulloh,  Hen,"  exclaimed  Mitchell;  "what  are 
you  doing  now?" 

"Well,  I'm  drivin'  them  tourists  out  here  while 
the  season  last,"  replied  the  cabman. 

"That  must  be  a  great  entertainment  for  you, 
Hen,"  said  his  former  master,  who  well  remem- 
bered his  partiality  for  practical  joking. 

"Sometimes  I  has  the  honor  of  drivin'  a  bird. 
See  that  giglamps  over  there?  He  was  my  fare 
's  forenoon.  When  we  was  passin'  a  field  o'  rid 
clawver,  says  he  to  me,  says  he,  'What's  that,  my 
man?'  he  says.  Tepp'mint,  sir/  says  I.  'Indeed!' 


106 Cfte 

he  says,  'let  me  get  out  and  pluck  some/  'By  hall 
means/  I  says,  an'  hout  he  gits.  He  picked  some 
clawver  an'  smilt  to  it.  'Ah  don'  smill  like  pepp'- 
mint/  he  says.  Taste  'n,  sar,'  says  I.  'Ah  don' 
taste  like  'n/  he  says.  'Clunk  um,  sar,'  says  I, 
'you'll  feel  'n  warmen  when  he's  gwean  down." 

After  a  laugh  which  was  joined  in  by  two  or 
three  others  who  had  come  up,  Mitchell  observed : 

"So  you  made  the  Cockney  eat  grass  like  the  ox, 
Hen?  You'll  catch  a  Tartar  one  of  these  fine  days 
and  get  your  head  punched." 

"Not  by  one  o'  them  things.  I  don't  ax  no  man 
that  I'm  afeared  of  to  chow  clawver.  He  maight 
gi'  me  a  slap  in  the  chacks." 

The  real  accent  of  West  Cornwall,  which  has 
seldom  appeared  in  print,  is  not  received  with  favor 
either  by  readers  or  critics.  The  latter  have  even 
said  that  it  is  worse  than  Aberdonian,  with  which 
this  truthful  narrative  began.  As  to  the  letter 
"h"  it  may  be  said  that  the  native  uses  it  purely 
for  emphasis,  but  when  this  practice  is  ridiculed 
it  is  customary  to  place  it  before  words  beginning 
with  a  vowel,  but  not  accented  on  the  first  syllable, 
which  he  would  never  do.  He  would  naturally 
say  "hemigrant,"  but  never  "Hamerican."  Let  us 
step  into  the  hotel  where  the  cockney  is  liberally 
scattering  his  "haspirates  hall  hover  the  floor." 

The  house  is  full  of  guests  and  Billy  Mann, 
rushing  hither  and  thither,  as  busy  as  a  wet  hen 
and  employing  his  activity  to  no  better  purpose. 


a  no  the  Publican 


Nobody  thinks  of  taking  any  notice  of  him  except 
to  avoid  collision  with  him  in  the  passage. 
Mitchell  had  seen  him  excited  before  and  knew 
what  to  anticipate.  As  they  entered  he  extended 
both  hands  and  conducted  them  past  him,  whilst 
he  said  hurriedly  : 

"Terrible  busy,  terrible  busy,  gentlemen.  De- 
lighted to  see  you.  Take  some  M'zelly  with  you  in 
a  minute." 

Then  he  continued  issuing  orders  to  all  and  sin- 
gular, of  which  nobody  seemed  to  be  aware,  and 
the  business  of  satisfying  the  wants  of  the  guests 
went  smoothly  on  while  the  landlord  made  a  brave 
showing  of  superintending  the  whole.  Mitchell 
was  apprehensive  and  said  to  Frank: 

"I've  seen  Billy  acting  like  this  many  times,  but 
he  always  came  a  cropper.  He  is  only  built  up  for 
the  occasion.  In  a  few  minutes  he  will  be  speech- 
less/' 

The  words  were  hardly  uttered  before  there  was 
the  sound  of  a  heavy  body  falling  in  the  passage. 
Mitchell  and  East  at  once  rushed  out  of  the  room, 
into  which  they  had  only  just  entered,  and,  taking 
Billy  by  the  arms  and  legs,  pulled  him  out  of 
sight  of  the  visitors  and  placed  him  as  nearly  up- 
right as  possible  in  an  armchair,  but  he  had  evi- 
dently lost  all  control  of  his  muscles,  his  arms 
hung  limp  at  his  sides,  and  his  head  fell  forward 
on  his  breast. 


Cfie 


"This  looks  bad,"  said  Frank,  "we  had  better  get 
him  to  bed." 

"It's  only  the  ordinary  thing,"  Mitchell  re- 
marked, "they  are  used  to  this  here  and  will  get 
him  upstairs  as  soon  as  they  get  a  chance.  At 
present  they  are  too  busy  with  the  people." 

"But  this  looks  serious  —  very  much  like  apo- 
plexy." 

"I  don't  know  what  it  is  but  whiskey.  He  has 
come  through  it,  however,  a  good  many  times. 
Some  time  it  will  be  the  last  attack." 

"Let's  get  him  upstairs  and  send  for  the  doc- 
tor. I'm  sure  he  is  in  a  very  bad  way." 

"All  right.     Up  you  come,  Billy." 

So  they  carried  him  up  by  the  back  stairs  out  of 
sight  of  his  guests. 

When  Billy  was  safely  stowed  away  between  the 
sheets  with  the  aid  of  the  domestics.  East  being 
somewhat  upset,  but  Mitchell  not  at  all  moved  by 
the  spectacle  which  was  familiar  to  him,  they  sal- 
lied forth  to  view  the  Cockney  on  his  vacation. 

Very  few  people  from  the  continent  of  Europe 
or  from  America  visit  the  Land's  End,  for  it  has 
no  special  historic  interest  nor  are  its  scenic  fea- 
tures striking  when  compared  with  those  to  be 
found  almost  anywhere  around  the  coast  of  Corn- 
wall, but  to  the  Cockney  it  is  the  extreme  point 
both  south  and  west  of  his  beloved  Hingland  and 
is  as  remote  as  possible,  both  actually  and  figura- 
tively, from  Baow  Bells.  During  the  summer  he 


anD  tfie  Pufiltom io» 

swarms  here  in  considerable  numbers,  and  it  is 
pretty  safe  to  prophecy  when  you  see  a  group  in 
the  distance  that,  as  you  pass  them,  you  will  hear 
the  "daown't  yuh  knaow"  of  'Ornsey,  the  "I  s'y" 
of  Bermondsey,  "hand  the  hantics  of  the  haitch" 
of  Hupper  Tooting. 

'Arry's  sweet  innocence  of  everything  connected 
with  country  life  is  charming.  The  fauna  he  is  to 
some  extent  familiar  with  from  pictures,  but  the 
flora  of  the  land  and  both  flora  and  fauna  of  the 
deep  he  is  as  ignorant  of  as  he  is  of  the  cotton  plant 
or  the  abalone.  But,  though  'Arry  is  amusing,  he 
is  good.  He  "p'ys  his  w'y"  and  behaves  himself, 
after  his  own  peculiar  fashion.  Though  the  na- 
tions of  the  earth  may  laugh  at  him,  it  would  be 
well  if  they  would  imitate  him.  He  is  not  a  van- 
dal, or  a  cheat  or  a  liar.  He  knows  enough  to 
worship  beauty,  venerate  age,  and  keep  his  hands 
off,  and,  with  the  assistance  of  Tommy  Atkins,  he 
has  done  great  things  in  this  world. 


no  Cfte 


CHAPTER  XI. 

All  the  world  may  be  divided  into  two  classes — 
those  who  serve  and  those  who  do  not.  The  former 
are  mere  chattels,  the  latter  the  real  men  of  the 
earth.  It  matters  not  if  a  man  be  a  president  of 
a  railroad  or  the  manager  of  a  mine,  if  it  is  not  his 
railroad,  or  his  mine,  he  is  a  serf.  He  has  sold 
himself  to  capital,  and  he  may  not  do  his  own  will. 
On  the  other  hand,  the  Chinaman  who  grows  tur- 
nips in  his  own  field  is  a  free  man  and  therefore  the 
superior  of  the  serf.  He  need  not  grow  turnips 
unless  he  pleases.  He  may  change  to  leeks  if  it 
suits  his  purpose,  but  the  highest  officer  of  the  big- 
gest corporation  in  America  will  do  just  precisely 
what  he  is  told  to  do  or  he  will  find  himself  ap- 
pointed inspector  of  buildings  for  his  health's  sake 
without  any  ceremony  whatever. 

But  the  chattel  has  it  in  its  power  to  vitalize 
itself,  become  a  driver,  and  hold  the  whip.  It  is 
only  necessary  for  chattels  to  combine,  which  they 
have  never  yet  had  the  sense  to  see  or  the  pluck 
to  do.  They  are  always  fighting  amongst  them- 
selves about  nonessentials.  What  are  the  "plat- 
forms" which  divide  the  people  into  Conservatives 


ant)  tfte  Publican 111 

and  Liberals,  Republicans  and  Democrats  to  the 
serf,  the  man  who  Jives  by  the  sweat  of  his  brow 
at  the  behest  of  another?  Protection  and  free  trade 
are  shibboleths  which  have  always  divided  the  peo- 
ple into  two  camps,  and  there  are  others  of  less 
importance,  but  all  sink  into  insignificance  beside 
the  one  great  antagonism  between  capital  and  labor, 
the  driver  and  the  driven.  The  beast  of  burden 
has  set  up  his  own  master  as  he  has  made  his  own 
God,  and  he  permits  himself  to  be  led  as  a  lamb 
to  the  slaughter  when  he  has  it  in  his  power  to  be 
his  own  master — his  own  God  if  he  will.  He  only 
has  to  combine  on  the  one  thing  which  is  of  im- 
portance to  him  instead  of  allowing  his  forces  to 
be  divided  and  wasted  by  those  whose  interest  it 
is  to  hide  knowledge  and  darken  wisdom  with  the 
shadows  of  their  shibboleths  which  only  concern 
him  after  he  has  attained  the  power  which  is  his 
birthright,  but  which  has  been  usurped  by  his  astute 
antagonist. 

Whilst  the  laborer  remains  in  ignorance  he  will 
stay  as  he  is,  but  as  soon  as  he  begins  to  know  he 
will  assuredly  begin  to  do.  The  idle  will  be  made 
to  work  or  be  allowed  to  starve,  and  the  laborer, 
instead  of  being  "worthy  of  his  hire,"  will  take  his 
due  and  appropriate  to  capital  what  is  rightfully 
its  hire. 

We  have  heard  enough  of  the  natural  partner- 
ship and  the  common  interests  of  labor  and  capital, 
but  how  does  it  work  out?  Where  did  the  capital 


112 Cfte 

come  from?  Did  the  millionaire  just  find  it  or  did 
the  laborer  hew  it  out  of  the  rocks  of  the  earth? 
And  who  gets  the  purple  and  fine  linen  that  it  buys  ? 
Who  fares  sumptuously  every  day?  The  laborer 
— the  serf — the  chattel? 

Fellow  workmen — for  all  who  work,  whether  by 
pen,  voice,  or  hand  are  one  in  opposition  to  the 
tramp  and  the  spender  of  "the  unearned  incre- 
ment"— it  needs  only  that  you  unite  to  have  what 
you  will.  Why  should  you  choose  your  President 
from  the  ranks  of  the  Republicans  or  the  Demo- 
crats? Take  your  champion  from  the  ranks  of 
labor  and  God  speed  to  him! 

One  thing,  however,  labor  must  learn — -to  sink 
nonessentials.  That  is  what  has  always  been  its 
bane.  Strife  about  trifles,  such  as  local  or  personal 
prejudices,  have  been  allowed  to  divide  the  camp 
into  parties.  Not  even  the  tariff  itself  is  of  any 
moment  beside  the  one  cardinal  principle  of  owner- 
ship in  the  work  of  a  man's  own  hands.  Not  one 
quarter,  two-thirds,  or  three-fifths  belongs  to  him, 
but  all.  If  capital  has  lent  its  aid  it  shall  be  paid 
the  current  rate  of  interest  determined  by  com- 
petition between  capitalists,  not  as  at  present  tak- 
ing all  and  giving  to  labor,  the  producer  of  the 
whole,  only  such  share  as  the  wolf  of  hunger  com- 
pels him  to  accept.  He  that  makes  shall  have,  he 
that  earns  shall  hold,  not  "to  him  that  hath  shall 
be  given  and  from  him  that  hath  not  shall  be  taken 
even  that  he  hath," 


anD  tftc  publican 113 

This  is  no  apotheosis  of  labor,  meaning  thereby 
what  is  commonly  called  unskilled  labor,  but  is  in- 
tended to  set  forth,  the  basic  principle  upon  which 
the  whole  of  politics  and  sociology  should  be 
founded,  that  the  worker,  be  he  Prime  Minister 
or  hodcarrier,  is  the  owner  of  this  earth  and  should 
govern  it.  The  idler  is  its  curse  and  should  be 
exterminated.  And  so  when  it  is  urged  that  a 
President  should  be  chosen  from  the  ranks  of  labor 
it  is  not  meant  that  he  need  necessarily  be  a  car- 
penter or  a  plumber,  for  a  lawyer  is  often  as  hard 
a  worker  as  either.  We  are  only  raising  a  pro- 
test against  the  worship  of  Baal  and  the  laying 
of  the  fruits  of  the  earth  at  his  feet.  Why  should 
not  labor  run  its  own  railroads?  Then  would  its 
brass  buttons  be  the  badge  of  its  independence 
instead  of  the  mark  of  its  slavery  to  capital.  In 
this  lies  the  difference  between  the  uniform  of  the 
soldier  and  that  of  the  janitor.  The  former  wears 
his  country's  uniform  and  serves  under  his  coun- 
try's colors,  himself  an  integral  and  independent 
unit  in  the  formation  of  the  system  by  which  he 
allows  himself  to  be  controlled,  but  the  servant  of 
capital  sells  himself  to  his  employer  and  dares  dis- 
obey no  unjust  or  arbitrary  order  on  pain  of  be- 
ing deprived  of  the  right  to  earn  his  bread,  a  right 
to  which  he  was  born,  and  of  which  no  man,  be 
he  priest  or  king,  might  rob  him  in  a  state  founded 
on  the  basic  principle  of  man's  inherent  right  to 
the  product  of  his  toil. 


Cfte 


Of  all  laborers  the  Cornish  miner  is  most  inde- 
pendent in  principle  but  most  unhappy  in  practice. 
There  are  those  who  work  on  the  surface  at  the 
preparation  of  the  ore  which  has  been  brought 
up  from  below  for  the  smelting  house,  but  the  actual 
digger,  whether  on  the  tribute  system  —  by  which  he 
is  paid  a  percentage  on  the  value  of  the  tin  he  gets 

—  or  on  that  known  as  "tutwork"  —  by  which  he 
is  paid  according  to  the  extent  of  ground  he  breaks 

—  may  please  himself  whether  he  works  or  not, 
and,  subject  to  arrangement  with  his  fellows,  may 
work  either  "forenoon,  afternoon,  or  night  chore." 
The  product,  however,  of  the  hardest  toil  known 
to  man  is  the  most  meagre  on  record.     If  he  can 
gather   together   from  fifty   to  sixty  shillings,  or 
from  twelve  and  a  half  to  fifteen  dollars  a  month, 
he  deems  himself  to  be  doing  well,  and  such  is  their 
love  of  home  and   independence   that  many  who 
have    emigrated   to    California,    where    they   earn 
more  in  a  week  than  they  could  at  home  in  a  month, 
frequently  give  voice  to  their  longing  to  return 
if  they  can  "only  be  sure  o'  sixty  shellun  a  month." 
Meanwhile  capital  goes  on  adding  barn  to  barn 
and  field  to  field.     Ellis  &  Dee  have  grown  wealthy 
whilst  John  Thomas  and  Benny  Uren  have  lived 
for  fifty  years  on  salt  fish  and  potatoes,  bored  holes 
in  the  solid  granite  in  a  temperature  of  a  hun- 
dred degrees   in  an  atmosphere   like   that  of  the 
Black  Hole  of  Calcutta,  and  died  of  phthisis  to 
erect  stately  mansions  for  the  bankers  and  hovels 


and  tfte  pufrttam 


for  themselves.  From  the  products  of  their  labor 
deductions  should  be  made  for  the  owner  of  the 
soil  and  for  the  lender  of  the  capital,  but  the  bal- 
ance is  undoubtedly  theirs.  The  practice,  however, 
is  to  make  a  deduction  for  the  owner  of  the  hole  in 
the  ground  and  enough  to  provide  "fish  and  'tates" 
for  the  man  who  makes  the  hole,  while  capital  ap- 
propriates the  remainder.  When  education  has 
spread  its  beneficent  influence  into  all  the  dark 
places  of  the  earth  and  man  has  really  learned  that 
"unity  is  strength,"  which  now  he  believes  in  theory 
but  disowns  in  practice,  the  iniquitous  reign  of  cap- 
ital will  be  over  and  gambling  on  the  stock  ex- 
change will  come  to  an  ignominious  end.  The  man 
who  digs  tin,  or  directs  a  machine  how  to  do  it, 
like  the  man  who  cuts  hay  or  carries  a  hod,  equally 
with  the  man  who  speaks  in  Congress  or  Parlia- 
ment, will,  when  that  day  shall  dawn,  be  able  to 
wear  purple  and  fine  linen  if  he  wants  to,  with  a 
sense  that  he  has  the  right,  and  may  spend  his 
evenings  in  the  cultivation  of  literature  or  music 
with  his  family,  while  those  who  have  been  con- 
victed of  vagrancy  will  carry  in  the  coal  and  keep 
the  streets  clean. 

This  is  not  a  political  pamphlet,  or  a  treatise 
on  sociology,  or  it  might  be  appropriate  to  enlarge 
on  the  ethical  and  social  difference  between  the 
free  man  who  owns  and  works  his  own  garden  and 
the  serf  whose  sole  property  is  his  servility,  and 
still  less  is  it  a  recommendation  of  a  socialist  pana- 


Cfte 


cea  for  the  sufferings  of  the  incompetent,  or,  in 
other  words,  the  under  dog,  or  we  might  dwell  on 
the  beauty  of  the  lovingkindness  that  never  did  in- 
herit the  earth  —  of  a  "light  that  never  was  on  land 
or  sea/'  It  is  merely  a  plain  statement  of  the  in- 
evitable trend  of  history.  In  the  course  of  cen- 
turies the  laborer  has  evolved  from  the  position 
of  a  mere  chattel  attached  to  the  soil  to  that  of  a 
man  whose  voice  has  the  same  value  in  the  gov- 
ernment of  the  nation  as  that  of  Croesus  or  Ploutos. 
The  only  trouble  with  him  is  that  he  is  still  ig- 
norant. He  allows  all  the  members  of  the  fam- 
ilies of  Croesus,  Ploutos,  Rothschild,  Rockefeller, 
Morgan,  et  hoc  genus  omne,  to  combine  against 
him,  whilst  there  are  more  members  in  his  family 
than  in  all  the  others  put  together,  and  all  he  wants 
to  take  the  entire  direction  of  affairs  into  his  own 
hands  is  to  get  them  all  to  pull  together  on  the 
same  rope  at  the  same  time.  He  must  choose  a 
leader  —  merely  as  a  rallying  point  —  and  vote  for 
him.  When  labor  once  gets  into  power  it  may 
take  what  steps  with  the  tariff  or  any  other  less 
important  or  incidental  matter,  it  sees  fit. 

Our  business  here  is  merely  with  the  aspect  of 
this  question  presented  in  West  Cornwall,  with  the 
miner  as  its  exponent,  and  we  are  now  on  the  way 
from  the  Land's  End  back  to  Redborne  with  East 
and  Mitchell,  whose  conversation  has  been  of  other 
matters.  As  they  ride  along  they  are  about  to  pass 
the  little  four-roomed  granite  cottage,  with  a 


anD  tfre  publican 


thatched  roof,  like  hundreds  of  others  in  the  par- 
ish, with  a  tiny  patch  of  ground  in  front  used  for 
growing  potatoes  and  surrounded  by  a  stone  hedge, 
where  lives  a  miner  who  is  nearing  the  inevitable 
bourne,  when  Mitchell  says  : 

"Let's  look  in  and  see  how  John  Hollow  is  get- 
ting on.  I  hear  the  poor  chap  is  on  his  last  legs." 

John  had  been  a  noted  character  in  the  commu- 
nity, a  cricket  player  and  an  enthusiastic  volunteer. 
Frank  remembered  him  well  and  was  quite  willing 
to  pull  up  for  a  few  minutes  to  look  in  on  him. 
As  they  entered  they  found  the  sick  man  seated 
just  inside  the  open  door  looking  out  on  the  sun- 
shine in  which  he  would  never  play  again,  but  as 
he  caught  sight  of  them  he  welcomed  them  quite 
cheerfully,  and  to  Mitchell's  question  as  to  how  he 
felt  he  replied  : 

"Well,  I  don'  b'lieve  I  c'u'd  skat  a  ball  very  fur 
to-day,  but  I  am  'ot  so  bad.  I  maight  ha'  b'en 
wuss." 

"Oh,  yes,  you've  only  to  keep  your  spirits  up, 
John,  and  we  shall  see  you  making  the  big  score 
against  Camruth  again." 

"I  shaan't  play  rickets  no  more,  Mester  Mitchell. 
You  d'  knaw  that's  well's  I  do.  But  I've  'ad  a  good 
deal  to  be  thankful  far  Mester  Mitchell,  and  I'm 
gwean  now  weer  ee  ezn't  no  rickets  played." 

"Nonsense,  John,  you  mustn't  talk  that  way. 
Why,  if  I  felt  like  that  I  should  be  going,  too,  but 


Cfre 


I  try  to  think  that  I  am  able  to  take  my  part  yet, 
and  strive  to  do  it." 

"I've  kipt  it  up  a  bra'  while,  Mester  Mitchell, 
but  I  be'n  here  s'long  like  this  now  an'  I  d'  knaw 
s'  well  's  you  do  when  the  game's  arver.  I  b'lieve 
I  ain't  done  so  bad;  I  made  a  bra'  tidy  score,  but 
I  be'n  playin'  again'  a  baowler  that  do  baowl  us  all 
out  some  time  or  'nother,  an'  I  shaan't  play  no 


more." 


Here   East   broke   in: 

"Well,  good-bye,  now,  John.  We'll  come  and 
see  you  again  soon,  and  I'll  see  if  I  can't  bring  you 
something  that  will  do  you  good.  You  want  more 
nourishing  food  than  you're  getting  and  two  or 
three  glasses  of  port  wine  every  day.  You  should 
also  keep  out  of  the  house  as  much  as  ever  you 
can.  I  don't  despair  of  you  a  bit  yet,  John." 

"My  appetite's  most  nean  gone  now." 

"We'll  fetch  it  back,  John,  you  see  if  we  don't," 
said  Frank  as  they  once  more  mounted  their  horses 
and  rode  back  to  Redborne. 

"It's  only  hard  work  and  want  of  nourishment 
that  kills  these  poor  devils,"  commented  Mitchell. 

"Do  you  think  it  is  possible  to  save  that  fellow's 
life?"  asked  Frank. 

"I  don't  know,"  replied  Mitchell,  "but  he  never 
would  have  become  ill  but  for  the  want  of  nutri- 
tious food.  When  a  man  has  to  work  the  way 
these  men  have  to  and  under  such  fearful  condi- 
tions, he  needs  a  more  than  ordinarily  nutritious 


ana  t&e  publican 


diet  and  plenty  of  fresh  air  when  he  is  above 
ground,  and  how  these  poor  beggars  don't  die 
sooner  even  than  they  do  is  a  mystery  to  me." 

"But  with  fresh  air  and  good  food  now,  don't 
you  think  John  might  be  put  on  his  feet  again?" 

"It  was  a  spell  of  bad  luck  that  he  had  that 
bowled  him  over.  He  earned  hardly  any  tribute  on 
account  of  the  lode  becoming  poor,  and  was  un- 
able to  feed  himself  and  the  children,  he,  of  course, 
stinting  himself  for  them.  You  know  they'll  never 
take  any  help  from  the  parish,  however  hard  pressed 
they  may  be." 

"Well,  I  think  I  will  try  feeding  him  for  a 
while  and  see  what  that  will  do.  The  family  is  no 
doubt  living  on  about  thirty  shillings  a  month  from 
the  club." 

"All  right,  I'll  stand  the  port  wine  if  you'll  pay 
for  the  beef.  I  hate  to  see  a  man  like  John  die. 
A  man  like  that  is  a  great  help  to  a  place.  En- 
thusiasm about  things  that  are  good  for  people  is 
a  good  influence  in  a  community.  It  makes  people 
pull  together  and  keeps  them  interested  and  out  of 
mischief." 

"He  seems  quite  content  to  die  and  go  to  heaven 
now.  That  will  be  the  greatest  obstacle  to  his  re- 
covery. We  must  get  him  out  of  that  frame  of 
mind  somehow." 

"What  a  good  friend  religion  is  to  the  rich.  The 
Bible  says  they  can  no  more  get  to  heaven  than  a 
camel  can  go  through  the  eye  of  a  needle,  and  that 


120 Cfre 

is  quite  right,  too,  for  they  have  had  all  the  benefit 
they  are  entitled  to  from  it  here.  If  the  poor  man 
thought  there  was  no  hope  for  him  beyond  the 
grave,  he  would  be  up  and  doing  now.  That  beau- 
tiful fiction  that  it  will  be  all  right  with  him  by 
and  bye  keeps  him  harmless  here." 

"Do  you  think  that  is  why  the  rich  in  so  many 
cases  are  so  generous  to  the  church?" 

"I'm  not  one  of  them.  I  don't  know,  but  I  do 
know  that  their  donations  pay  them  good  interest 
if  they  keep  the  poor,  deluded,  plundered  laborer 
quiet." 

"And  you  would  have  me  join  that  institution?" 

"Not  to  uphold  that  form  of  iniquity,  of  course 
not,  but  merely  for  the  same  reason  as  I  am  a 
hotelkeeper.  You  don't  suppose  I  enjoy  keeping  a 
hotel,  I  hope  ?  I  do  it  because  I  think  I  can  get  my 
living  that  way  with  the  least  inconvenience  to  my- 
self, and,  if  you  join  the  church,  merely  for  the 
sake  of  appearances,  you  will  find  that  your  stay  in 
this  community  will  be  less  like  the  visit  of  an  in- 
vestigator to  a  hornet's  nest." 

"I  think  you  can  make  a  pretty  good  parson  out 
of  a  very  poor  tinker,  but  you  can't  make  a  hypo- 
crite or  a  temporizer  out  of  a  man  that  had  the 
misfortune  to  be  born  honest.  Consequently,  if 
you  are  anxious  about  my  welfare,  I  advise  you  to 
try  and  awaken  enthusiasm  in  some  direction  that 
promises  better  results." 


anD  t&e  Pu&lican  121 


CHAPTER  XII. 

At  the  great  chapel  a  huge  granite  building  cap- 
able of  seating  two  thousand  people,  with  a  mas- 
sive portico,  but  without  other  ornament  whatever, 
a  series  of  revival  services  was  about  to  be  held  by 
a  young  man  who  had  spent  most  of  the  years  of 
his  adolescence  behind  a  ribbon  counter,  but  who 
had  attained  such  success  as  a  local  preacher  in 
awakening  the  sinner  by  the  force  of  his  impas- 
sioned appeals  that  he  had  devoted  himself  entirely 
to  the  work  of  evangelism.  The  young  man  was 
tall,  thin  and  dressed  entirely  in  black,  with  the 
exception  of  his  collar,  which  he  dispensed  with 
entirely,  leaving  his  long,  lean  neck  bare  to  the 
caress  of  his  raven  curly  locks. 

Considerable  interest  was  awakened  in  the  visit 
of  this  preacher  throughout  the  parish  as  he  came 
heralded  by  astonishing  success  in  other  towns  of 
the  county,  and  the  voice  of  rumor  reached  even  as 
far  as  Mitchell,  who  lived  on  a  hillside  apart,  but, 
anxious  as  he  was  for  the  good  of  the  souls  of 
others,  he  had  no  care  for  his  own,  and  felt  no  in- 
terest whatever  in  Robinson  Jones,  either  as  a  re- 
former or  as  a  freak.  It  was  not  so,  however,  with 


Frank.  He  loved  to  study  everything  out  of  the 
common,  and  anything  psychologic  particularly  ap- 
pealed to  him.  A  priori  he  thought  the  explanation 
of  the  influence  of  an  enthusiast  on  the  minds  of 
the  rabble  was  simple  enough,  but  a  priori  reasons 
never  satisfied  him.  He  was  convinced  by  noth- 
ing but  what  would  satisfy  at  least  two  of  his 
senses,  and  for  that  reason  never  had  the  slight- 
est faith  in  anything  occult  or  mysterious  what- 
ever. Everything  was  capable  of  simple  and  satis- 
factory explanation  as  soon  as  you  knew  enough 
about  it,  and  the  only  way  to  know  was  to  examine. 
The  evolution  of  theories  out  of  the  depths  of  one's 
inner  consciousness  did  not  constitute  knowledge. 
In  this  light  he  looked  at  the  phenomenon  pre- 
sented by  the  revivalist,  and  in  this  mood  he  de- 
termined to  attend  his  opening  service,  as  it  was 
in  the  breaking  of  the  ice  that  his  power  would  be 
seen.  After  that  was  done  the  subsequent  passage 
would  be  easy. 

There  are  orators  who  seem  by  a  sort  of  subtle 
magic  to  play  on  the  emotions  of  their  audience 
as  a  pianist  plays  on  his  instrument,  and  the  nature 
of  their  influence  is  no  doubt  of  a  complex  charac- 
ter, but  it  mainly  consists  in  effectively  presenting 
a  picture  which,  placed  before  unreflecting  minds, 
will  arouse  the  particular  emotion  desired,  just  as 
waving  a  red  rag  in  front  of  a  bull  will  inevitably 
awaken  his  rage.  The  shading  of  a  natural  picture 
is  carefully  obliterated  and  blood,  fire  or  hurri- 


ana  tfje  publican 123 

cane  is  shown  in  all  its  naked  terror.  Without  al- 
lowing time  for  reflection  the  speaker  hurries  on, 
adding  scene  to  scene,  until  his  audience  is  worked 
up  to  an  enthusiasm  which  will  enable  him  to 
launch  his  craft  on  the  surging  waters  sweeping  to 
the  desired  haven. 

Not  all  oratory  is  of  this  kind,  however.  This 
requires  genius.  There  is  another  type  which  at- 
tains the  same  end  by  much  simpler  means,  to  wit, 
by  the  use  of  a  trick  known  from  the  time  of  the 
first  prophet,  but  just  as  effective  for  its  purpose 
as  the  electric  button  for  the  production  of  light  or 
sound.  This  is  the  unconscious  method  of  enthu- 
siasts and  the  predetermined  plan  of  fakers.  The 
revivalist  sometimes  has  all  these  means  at  his 
command.  If  so,  his  skill  is  great,  but  the  audiences 
to  which  such  a  speaker  appeals  are  of  the  kind 
most  easily  swayed  and  no  delicate  or  complicated 
series  of  mental  gymnastics  is  required  to  produce 
the  desired  effect. 

On  these  occasions  the  bout  usually  opens  with 
the  Sunday  morning  service,  but  this  is  understood 
to  be  merely  a  prelude  and  "results"  are  never  to  be 
expected  until  the  shades  of  evening  fall  on  an  ap- 
propriate atmosphere.  Therefore  Frank  knew  it 
would  be  safe  to  omit  Act  I,  Scene  I. 

On  entering  the  chapel  he  seated  himself  just 
within  the  door  and  for  that  reason  at  such  a  dis- 
tance from  the  speaker  as  to  be  unable  to  observe 
the  play  of  his  features,  but  his  words  could  be  dis- 


124 Cfre 

tinctly  heard,  for  his  voice  was  loud  and  clear,  and 
his  manner  and  motions  were  perfectly  visible  as 
he  stood  at  a  reading  desk  on  a  rostrum  rather 
than  in  a  pulpit. 

After  the  usual  preliminary  hymns,  prayers  and 
reading  of  the  Scriptures,  the  preacher  came  to  his 
text:  "I  will  laugh  at  your  calamity,  I  will  mock 
when  your  fear  cometh,"  and  the  sermon  he  deliv- 
ered on  this  foundation  should  have  been  enough 
to  shake  the  stolidity  of  a  hippopotamus,  supposing 
that  thick-skinned  beast  to  be  a  believer  in  "a  judg- 
ment to  come,"  for  the  wicked  were  pictured  as  ar- 
rayed before  a  tribunal  where  forgiveness  was  un- 
known, the  appropriate  time  for  the  exercise  of 
clemency  having  passed,  and  which  would  measure 
out  to  each  culprit — no  matter  what  the  degree  of 
his  guilt — the  uniform  and  unalterable  sentence: 
"Depart  from  me  ye  cursed  into  everlasting  dark- 
ness prepared  for  the  devil  and  his  angels."  This 
audience,  however,  was  used  to  that  kind  of  thing. 
It  might  affect  one  who  was  new  to  the  exploitation 
of  such  terrors,  but  these  people  had  heard  of  them 
before.  They  were  seasoned  reprobates — not  by 
any  means  great  sinners,  but  even  earthquakes  have 
very  little  effect  on  those  who  are  accustomed  to 
them.  The  sermon  ended,  no  "results"  followed 
so  a  hymn  was  sung,  and  then  one  of  the  brethren 
was  called  upon  to  pray,  which  he  did  in  a  style 
which  to  a  stranger  would  appear  fluent  and  im- 
passioned, coupled  with  an  astonishingly  familiar 


anO  tfac  Publican 125 

method  of  address  to  the  Deity,  quite  as  if  they 
were  old  chums,  in  fact,  but  to  the  frequenters  of 
this  place  of  "worship"  (forsooth)  was  recognized 
merely  as  Captain  Joe  Harvey's  contribution  to  the 
entertainment,  the  manner  and  phraseology  of 
which  they  knew  by  heart.  But  still  there  were  no 
results.  Then  another  hymn  was  sung,  but  when 
the  time  came  for  the  giving  out  of  the  third  verse, 
behold  the  preacher  was  on  his  knees,  so  the  con- 
gregation subsided,  too,  but  not  a  word  came  from 
the  desk.  Presently,  however,  the  prostrate  figure 
arose  and  in  a  solemn  manner  and  hushed  tone  he 
said  to  the  people  who  were  now  some  of  them 
standing,  others  sitting  and  not  a  few  still  kneel- 
ing: "I  could  not  have  so  spoken  two  minutes  ago, 
but  now  I  deliver  you  this  solemn  and  awful  mes- 
sage from  on  high:  'If  there  are  not  souls  saved 
here  to-night,  some  of  you  will  be  in  hell  before 
the  morning.'"  Immediately  women  shrieked,  and 
both  men  and  maidens  rushed  helter-skelter  pell- 
mell  to  the  penitent  form,  while  their  wailings  re- 
sounded through  the  "sacred"  edifice  and  Frank 
left  the  place  with  a  loathing  and  a  pain  at  his 
heart,  which  convinced  him  that  revivalism  was  a 
feature  of  modern  empirics  which  required  no 
further  study  from  him.  In  future  his  reasoning 
on  this  subject  would  be  conducted  by  the  a  priori 
method. 


126  Cfte 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

As  Frank  had  been  seen  at  the  chapel  by  a  great 
many  interested  people  it  was  natural  that  he  should 
be  very  speedily  waited  upon  by  one  of  the  minis- 
ters in  the  discharge  of  his  duty  in  looking  up  "in- 
quirers"— those  who  were  in  the  first  stage  of  the 
Methodist  neophyte;  consequently  he  was  not  sur- 
prised to  receive  a  call  from  Rev.  Jabez  Higgs. 

This  worthy  divine  was  not  much  older  than 
Frank  himself,  and  had  not  yet  taken  to  himself  a 
wife,  for  the  rules  of  his  sect  enforced  a  sort  of 
limited  celibacy.  No  married  man  could  enter  the 
ministry  nor  could  the  rite  of  matrimony  be  per- 
formed until  several  years  after  the  ceremony  of 
ordination.  In  person  he  was  large  and  bony,  but 
unhealthy-looking,  and  a  silk  hat  and  broadcloth 
seemed  strangely  out  of  place  on  his  uncouth  fig- 
ure. His  manner  was  a  mixture  of  roughness  and 
shyness  derived  from  his  origin  and  present  envi- 
ronment, but  perhaps  he  was  not  so  uncomfortable 
as  he  appeared  to  be.  His  earlier  years  had  been 
spent  as  a  coal  miner,  and  though  he  might  not  be 
very  acceptable  as  a  "rounder"  in  the  neighborhood 
of  the  place  of  his  birth,  in  a  strange  environment 


anP  the  Publican 


he  might  perhaps  pass  muster.  A  tin  miner  would 
have  done  equally  well  if  sent  to  the  north  of  Eng- 
land. In  the  theological  seminary  he  had  acquired 
a  somewhat  uncertain  familiarity  with  the  English 
grammar  and  a  few  other  things  that  schoolboys 
usually  become  more  or  less  intimate  with,  but  the 
majority  of  his  time  there  had  been  spent  in  the 
study  of  theology  —  the  so-called  science  which 
measures  the  powers  of  the  omnipotent  and  the 
knowledge  of  the  omniscient.  To  take  the  name  of 
God  in  vain  is  said  to  be  blasphemy.  What,  then, 
is  theology? 

Frank  received  the  Rev.  Jabez  courteously  enough 
and  the  minister  began: 

"We  were  very  glad  to  see  you  at  chapel  on  Sun- 
day night,  Mr.  East,  and  hope  you  will  come  again 
soon." 

"I  am  afraid,  Mr.  Higgs,"  said  Frank,  "that  if 
we  enter  into  a  discussion  on  this  topic  I  shall  have 
to  say  unpleasant  things,  which  I  would  rather 
avoid.  You  see,  I  am  no  diplomatist,  and  am  in 
the  habit  of  expressing  myself  without  reserve  at 
all  times.  Perhaps  it  would  be  better  not  to  go  any 
further." 

"I  am  afraid  you  do  not  understand  me,  Mr. 
East.  I  take  it  that  your  visit  to  the  chapel  shows 
an  interest  in  our  work,  and  I  shall  be  glad  to  see 
that  interest  continue  and  grow." 

"Very  well,  sir,  if  you  insist  on  it.    I  am  not  in- 


128 Cfie  Pimrisee 

terested  in  your  work,  and  shall  not  go  to  the 
chapel  again." 

"Is  there  not  some  prejudice  that  I  could  over- 
come if  you  would  confide  in  me?" 

"There  is  not.  Again  let  me  say  that  I  am  very 
anxious  not  to  be  offensive,  and  would  rather  you 
took  some  other  line,"  said  Frank. 

"But  this  is  my  line,  Mr.  East.  It  is  for  this 
that  I  came  here.  It  is  just  such  work  that  I  have 
devoted  myself  to  do  in  the  world." 

"Between  you  and  me,  Mr.  Higgs,  there  is  a 
great  gulf  fixed,  as  your  own  book  says.  You  can 
believe  that  the  God  that  made  Sirius  was  crucified 
on  Calvary.  I  cannot." 

"God  made  serious,  you  say?  I  don't  quite  fol- 
low you." 

"I  see  you  don't,"  said  Frank,  with  wonderful 
self-command,  quite  calmly.  When  telling  the  story 
afterward  he  would  not  be  able  to  refrain  from 
roaring  with  laughter. 

"It  is  a  serious  matter,  Mr.  East." 

"I  know  it.     Therefore  we  will  drop  it,  please." 

"Could  I  not  advise  you  as  to  some  reading  which 
you  could  take  up,  sir,  to  lead  you  to  a  more  rev- 
erent frame  of  mind?" 

This  was  too  much — to  be  taught  reverence  by 
a  preacher  of  an  ignorant,  blaspheming  sect  like 
this,  but  Frank  again  restrained  himself  and  asked : 

"Do  you  read  Greek,  Mr.  Higgs?" 

"Not  very  well,  Mr.  East." 


anD  tftc  Publican 129 

"I  do;  and  Hebrew,  too.  I  have  also  read  the 
works  of  scores  of  learned  men  holding  every  va- 
riety of  view  on  religious  questions — in  fact,  I  be- 
lieve everything  of  real  importance  that  has  ever 
been  written  on  that  topic — and  I  am  even  more 
firmly  convinced  than  I  was  at  the  beginning  that 
all  religions  are  as  wholly  of  human  manufacture 
as  the  clothes  you  wear.  I  do  not  believe  that  man 
is  at  the  summit  of  evolution.  I  think  it  quite 
likely  that  there  are  many  grades  of  beings  over 
his  head,  but  it  is  impossible  for  me  to  have  an 
idea  of  a  thing  which  is  supernatural,  that  is,  above 
the  natural  which  we  know,  and  I  refuse  to  spend 
my  time  in  worthless  speculations  on  the  subject. 
We  cannot  express  infinity  in  finite  terms,  so  we 
may  as  well  make  up  our  minds,  like  the  cobbler,  to 
stick  to  our  lasts/' 

Frank  did  not  conclude  with  "Chacun  a  son 
metier,"  because  he  knew  that  the  Rev.  Jabez  was 
altogether  out  of  his  depth,  and  it  would  be  no 
use  drowning  him  in  a  little  French  dipper. 

The  minister,  however,  recovered  his  metier 
when  he  took  up  his  hat  and  bowed  himself  out 
with  the  remark  that  on  some  future  occasion  he 
hoped  to  find  Mr.  East  in  a  more  "favorable"  frame 
of  mind. 

Frank's  deplorable  state  was  of  course  reported 
to  the  revivalist,  and  it  was  decided  to  make  him 
the  subject  of  special  prayer  and  the  whole  of  the 
church  was  called  upon  to  intercede  at  the  throne 


130 Cfte  Pimrigee 

of  grace  on  his  behalf.  This  action  naturally  formed 
the  occasion  for  many  pious  reflections  by  the  ir- 
repressible Mitchell.  When  they  were  together  in- 
specting a  lump  which  had  formed  in  the  mare's 
neck,  and  which  seemed  to  be  very  tender,  Frank's 
mentor  observed. 

"I  told  you  what  it  would  come  to.  You  had 
better  go  up  to  the  rail  now  and  join  the  church  in 
a  blaze  of  glory.  Then  everything  will  be  for- 
given." 

"Even  I  don't  make  fun  of  these  things." 

"Yes  you  do.  Fancy  talking  Astronomy  to  that 
coal-heaver  Higgs !  Both  solemn,  both  earnest,  and 
both  funnier  than  David  James  or  Toole.  You 
might  as  well  talk  Sanscrit  to  the  cat  in  the  kitchen." 

"Well,  what  else  could  I  do?  He  drove  me  to 
it.  He  would  have  it  out  with  me.  Now,  let's 
know  what  you,  in  your  superior  wisdom,  would 
have  done?"  , 

"In  the  first  place,  I  should  have  had  some  fun 
with  the  gentleman  myself.  I  should  have  wel- 
comed him  warmly  and  have  offered  him  a  cigar 
and  something  to  drink.  I  should  have  looked 
most  surprised  and  pained  when  he  refused  both. 
Then  I  should  have  taken  the  greatest  apparent  in- 
terest in  the  work  of  the  talented  young  preacher 
and  wished  him  all  the  success  in  the  world." 

"But  that  would  have  been  hypocrisy." 

"It  would,  but  that  would  have  been  the  end  of 
|t.  You  coul<d  simply  keep  yourself  gracefully  in 


anO  tfie  publican 


the  background  for  the  future,  but  now,  as  the 
Yankees  say,  you're  up  against  it." 

"I  should  like  to  be  able  to  cultivate  your  happy- 
go-lucky  temperament.  I  don't  believe  any  more 
than  you  do  that  there  is  anything  really  worth 
worrying  about,  but  I  cannot  feel  cheerful  about  it 
as  you  do." 

"Why  not?  If  I  were  to  give  you  my  actual 
opinion  of  the  difference  between  us,  I'm  afraid 
you  would  think  me  a  good  deal  too  straightfor- 
ward." 

"I  might,  but  I  assure  you  that  whatever  you 
say  will  make  absolutely  no  difference  whatever  to 
our  relations  or  my  opinion  of  you,  about  which  my 
mind  is  finally  made  up." 

"Very  well,  then.  You're  too  self-conscious, 
whilst  I  am  utterly  indifferent  as  to  what  sort  of  a 
figure  I  cut.  You  try  my  prescription  again,  and 
see  how  it  works.  You  say  to  yourself,  here  I  am 
so  and  so.  I  have  a  certain  position  to  maintain 
and  I  am  going  to  maintain  it.  You  prepare  for 
battle  like  a  bantam  cock  and  your  feathers  are  all 
ruffled  the  wrong  way  at  once.  As  for  me,  I  don't 
strive  to  maintain  any  position,  and  I  never  see 
anybody  trying  to  maintain  one  unless  he  makes 
me  laugh.  When  a  man  really  treads  on  my  toes 
so  as  to  hurt  I  hit  him  such  a  smash  in  the  solar 
plexus  that  he  keeps  off  my  feet  in  future,  but  noth- 
ing ever  disturbs  my  normal  equanimity  but  actu- 
ally violent  bodily  injury.  For  a  few  seconds  you 


132 Cfte 

can  smell  brimstone,  but  the  smoke  blows  off  in  a 
minute  and  immediately  I  forget  that  I  have  any 
feet  or  anything  else  that  I  want  to  maintain  intact 
or  spick  and  span  with  a  polish  on,  and  go  my  way 
rejoicing  as  before." 

"You  are  partially  right.  I  am  self-conscious,  I 
know,  but  that  is  temperamental;  I  can't  help  it. 
The  great  distinction  between  you  and  me,  how- 
ever, is  the  attitude  each  takes  toward  deception. 
To  me 'it  is  a  matter  of  principle,  to  you  merely  one 
of  expediency." 

"Well,  what's  the  odds  CD  long  as  you're  happy?" 

"But  I  am  not  happy  if  I  am  deceiving  anybody 
or  anybody  is  deceiving  me." 

"On  the  other  hand,  it  gives  me  a  peculiar  pleas- 
ure to  deceive  people,  and  I  am  quite  willing  to 
take  my  chances  as  to  being  deceived  myself  rather 
than  worry  about  it." 

"How  did  you  feel,  for  instance,  when  you  found 
Henry  was  not  watering  the  mare?" 

"Pretty  bad.  So  did  Heinrich.  So  did  the  mare. 
As  I  say,  I  take  my  chances.  Once  in  a  while  I  get 
caught,  but  not  twice  by  the  same  individual.  I 
take  care  of  that." 

"Both  of  us  have  to  act  according  to  the  dictates 
of  our  own  temperaments.  There  is  no  escape  from 
that.  What  heredity  and  environment  have  made 
us,  that  we  are,  and  we  shall  behave  accordingly. 
I  cannot  compromise  with  deceit  in  any  shape  " 

"We  all  have  to,  and  even  you  do." 


nnP  tlic  publican 133 

"I  know  what  you  mean.  There  are  various 
small  deceits  which  it  seems  inevitable  that  we 
should  practice,  rather  than  do  a  greater  injury,  but 
I  find  that  even  those  can  be  usually  avoided.  How- 
ever, I  am  not  dogmatic  about  it.  I  am  conscious 
usually  when  deceit  will  work  injury  and  under 
such  circumstances  I  will  neither  do  it  nor  suffer  it." 

"But  I  will,  eh?" 

"No,  I  don't  think  you  will  deliberately  do  any- 
body a  grave  injury,  but  you  would  rather  annoy 
a  man  or  make  him  ridiculous  than  not." 

"I  would.  I  am  sorry  that  you  should  forego 
that  pleasure,  but  it  would  be  a  melancholy  specta- 
cle to  see  you  playing  the  part  of  one  of  the  "In- 
nocents Abroad."  You  could  no  more  deceive  a 
man  than  a  mirror  could." 

"Well,  that's  enough  mutual  depreciation.  Let's 
try  the  mare's  collar  on.  THat's  probably  what's 
wrong." 


134  Cfte 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

Gertrude  had  apparently  been  behaving  with 
more  discretion  lately,  for  there  had  been  no 
further  occasion  to  draw  her  attention  to  the  fact 
that  the  gloom  of  Redborne  should  not  be  enlivened 
by  the  paradoxical  process  of  taking  advantage  of 
the  gloom  of  the  evening  for  walks  with  young 
miners.  Ennui  was,  however,  still  felt,  which  the 
young  lady  showed  when  she  said  to  Frank  one 
morning : 

"Why  shouldn't  we  have  somebody  to  visit  us? 
There  is  nobody  here  to  make  a  companion  of,  and 
jf  I  didn't  keep  busy,  I  should  go  crazy." 

"Ask  somebody,  by  all  means,"  her  brother  re- 
plied. "Is  there  anybody  you  specially  want  ?" 

"Well,  I  haven't  thought  much  about  it.  I  didn't 
think  you  would  care  for  it.  Miriam  Penrose  is 
home  now.  She  and  I  used  to  be  at  school  together, 
you  know,  and  were  great  friends.  I  haven't  seen 
anything  of  her  since  she  went  to  London.  How 
would  she  do  if  she  would  come?" 

"Get  anybody  you  would  like  to  have.  Don't 
consider  me  in  the  matter  at  all,"  said  Frank,  as 
composedly  as  he  could,  but,  of  .course,  he  never 


anD  tfte  publican 135 

deceived  anybody,  or  tried  to!  But  he  wondered 
if  Gertrude  could  possibly  have  got  wind  of  his  state 
of  mind  on  that  particular  topic  from  anywhere. 
He  had  said  nothing  to  anybody  but  Mitchell  and 
he  would  certainly  hold  his  tongue,  but  women  are 
very  shrewd  in  these  matters,  and  his  sister  had, 
no  doubt,  drawn  her  own  conclusions  from  his  fre- 
quent visits  to  Camruth,  and  the  evident  preoccu- 
pation of  his  thoughts,  which,  of  course,  had  been 
obvious  to  others  besides  Mitchell.  Still,  Gertrude, 
no  doubt,  wanted  a  friend,  and  a  friend  she  should 
have.  Why  should  he  not  take  the  hint  on  his  own 
behalf?  McLean  could  no  doubt  come  down  for 
a  day  or  two  when  on  circuit,  if  he  continued  to  go, 
but  it  would  doubtless  be  better  not  to  ask  him  at 
the  same  time  as  Miriam,  or  he  might  find  himself 
neglected. 

Frank  did  not  know  it,  but  it  was  with  consid- 
erable forethought  that  Gertrude  had  chosen  Miriam 
as  the  friend  who  should  be  invited,  for  the  ma- 
jority of  the  mothers  of  Gertrude's  school  friends 
would  have  hesitated  on  the  ground  of  propriety 
to  let  one  of  their  daughters  pay  a  visit  to  a  family 
that  had  had  the  misfortune  to  lose  their  parents. 
It  was  not  likely,  however,  that  a  mother  who  had 
given  her  consent,  even  reluctantly,  to  her  daugh- 
ter's going  to  London  to  live  alone,  would  raise 
any  objection  to  her  visiting  her  young  friends  in 
the  immediate  vicinity.  And  so  the  event  proved, 
for  Miriam  gladly  accepted  the  invitation,  but, 


136 Cfte  Pfjarigee 

meanwhile,  we  have  two  sick  people  on  our  hands. 
We  left  Billy*  Mann  in  articulo  mortis  in  an  apo- 
plectic fit,  and  John  Hollow  going  slowly  down  the 
valley  of  the  shadow.  Billy  had  several  times  had 
what  were  locally  called  "seizures,"  and  had  recov- 
ered, but  now  he  had  ordered  M'zelly  for  the  last 
time,  and,  with  no  one  to  mourn  for  him,  had  com- 
pleted the  cycle  which  had  given  him  individuality 
and  the  disintegrating  process,  which,  in  the  course 
of  years,  would  fit  his  component  atoms  or  elec- 
trons for  other  uses,  had  begun.  John  Hollow  was 
still  on  the  hither  side  of  the  Styx  and  his  two 
friends  were  trying  their  best  to  keep  him  there, 
but  he  was  a  difficult  subject  to  deal  with.  His  en- 
vironment was  so  much  against  him.  He  had  an 
ignorant  wife  and  six  young  children,  all  of  whom 
had  been  out  on  the  occasion  when  Frank  and  Tom 
first  looked  in  on  him,  the  former  at  work  in  the 
house  of  a  neighboring  farmer  on  "washing  day," 
and  the  latter  at  school,  the  invalid  being  thus  neces- 
sarily left  to  his  own  melancholy  reflections.  Such 
is  the  condition  of  the  poor — those  who  have  to 
drag  out  a  miserable  life  of  pain  and  toil  that  cap- 
ital may  enjoy  the  profits  of  labor.  The  little  house 
was  full  to  overflowing  with  humanity  and  noxious 
vapors,  the  sun  and  the  fresh  air  being  as  rigor- 
ously excluded  as  the  pig  and  the  ducks,  and  it 
seemed  useless  to  try  and  overcome  these  difficulties, 
for  Mrs.  Hollow  looked  with  a  patronizing  in- 
credulity upon  such  "new-fangled  notions"  as  let- 


and  ttic  Pu6ltom 


ting  light  and  air  into  the  dark  places  of  their  hab- 
itation. A  show  of  compliance  would  be  made  dur- 
ing the  visit  of  her  guests,  but  immediately  on  their 
departure  steps  would  be  forthwith  taken  promptly 
to  exclude  anything  so  positively  dangerous  as  the 
pure  air  of  heaven.  Mrs.  Hollow  was  also  a  stum- 
bling block  as  a  dietician,  for  her  notions  as  to 
what  was  good  for  the  sick  would  infallibly  reduce 
a  healthy  person  to  that  condition  in  short  order. 
She  had,  however,  poor  woman,  very  restricted 
limits  for  working  harm  in  this  direction.  Her  own 
breakfast  consisted  of  barley  bread  and  weak  tea, 
and  her  evening  meal  of  the  same,  whilst  dinner 
was  no  different,  but  for  the  addition  of  potatoes, 
and  perhaps  a  couple  of  ounces  of  salt  fish.  For 
the  sick  there  was  nothing  more,  except  that  his 
feeDJe  stomach  must  try  to  assimilate  a  little  more  of 
the  fish  In  order  to  nourish  him  properly  it  was 
necessary  to  feed  the  whole  family,  for,  if  he  had 
not  insisted  on  dividing  everything  with  the  chil- 
dren, they  would  have  clamored  for  the  unwonted 
luxury  of  flesh  like  young  wolves.  The  value  of 
oxygen  and  cleanliness  was  not  so  well  understood, 
especially  by  those  who  needed  them  most,  as  it  is 
to-day,  but,  notwithstanding  all  obstacles,  John's 
constitution,  which  was  still  young,  was  show- 
ing a  gratifying  response  to  the  unwonted  assist- 
ance given  it  by  a  generous  diet.  He  felt  stronger 
and  the  well-known  symptoms  of  the  consumptive 
began  somewhat  to  abate.  With  this  came  hope 


138 Cfte 

and  with  that  a  determination  to  make  a  good  fight 
for  life.  Frank  liked  to  drop  in  alone,  now  and 
then,  when  he  knew  that  the  family  would  not  be 
there,  for  the  distance  was  not  great,  and  John 
had  many  interesting  traits.  One  morning  he  was 
seated  in  the  sun,  as  on  the  first  occasion  of  their 
meeting,  but  as  East  entered,  he  rose,  and  said 
cheerfully : 

"I  tho't  we  was  licked,  but  we  aren't.  We're 
gwean  to  'ave  another  innin's." 

"I'm  mighty  glad  to  hear  it,  John.  Now  you 
see  that  you  carry  out  your  bat.  Don't  take  any 
chances,  play  every  over  cautiously,  only  hit  the 
balls  that  are  off  the  wicket,  and  you'll  keep  your 
bails  on  all  right." 

"I  never  played  again'  no  baowler  like  this  wan 
afore,  but  I  reg'n  I'd  knaw  his  tricks  most  nea  'n' 
all  now.  He's  made  me  sweat  a  bra'  deal  larnin' 
'em  howsomever." 

Were  it  not  that  a  little  of  his  dialect  goes  a 
long  way  with  both  compositor  and  reader  it  might 
perhaps  be  entertaining  to  give  more  of  John's 
ideas  of  life  quaintly  expressed  in  the  imagery  of 
his  favorite  game,  but  little  of  what  he  says  throws 
much  light  on  the  social  or  economic  condition  of 
his  class,  which,  after  all,  is  of  much  greater  im- 
portance than  his  own  poor  individuality. 

Frank  had  been  born  in  the  parish  in  which  he 
now  lived,  but  at  the  age  of  ten  he  had  gone  hun- 
dreds of  miles  from  home  to  school,  where  he  had 


ana  the  puflUcan 189 

remained  till  it  became  time  to  move  to  the  uni- 
versity, whence  he  had  gone  to  London  for  the  pur- 
pose of  preparation  for  the  profession  which  he  had 
but  lately  entered;  consequently,  he  and  the  people 
were  strangers  to  one  another,  but  his  vacations 
had  been  long  enough  to  make  him  a  friend  of  all 
the  brute  creation,  notably  of  Bob,  his  constant  com- 
panion. With  Mitchell,  the  case  was  different.  He 
also  had  been  brought  into  the  world  in  Redborne 
parish,  but  had  continued  to  live  there  as  a  boy, 
and  for  some  years  after  his  return  from  wander- 
ing about  the  world.  With  the  religious  section, 
which  included  by  far  the  majority  of  the  com- 
munity, he  was,  of  course,  an  outcast,  but  he  was 
always  at  the  front  in  all  movements  which  had  for 
their  purpose  the  pleasure  or  health  of  the  young 
men,  such  as  cricket  and  the  prize  competitions  of 
the  corps  in  rifle  shooting.  In  this  way  he  had  be- 
come intimate  with  those  in  whose  bodies  the  real 
red  blood  of  the  community  ran. 

These  men  were  both  gentlemen,  and  their  re- 
lations with  those  with  whom  they  came  in  con- 
tact were  never  those  of  superior  and  inferior. 
Every  man  was  made  to  feel  that  he  had  an  in- 
dividuality that  was  worthy  of  respect,  and  such, 
indeed,  is  the  attitude  in  which  a  gentleman  always 
stands  to  others,  no  matter  what  their  rank  in  life 
may  be.  Unfortunately,  it  is  invariably  the  man 
who  knows  what  it  is  to  be  snubbed  that  makes  it 
his  business  to  snub  others.  The  hero  who  is  his 


140 Cfte 

own  artist  at  the  same  time  that  he  is  his  own 
model,  the  self-sufficient,  self-made  genius  is  the 
real  Simon  pure  cad.  It  is  he  who  tramples  on 
those  he  has  the  impudence  to  call  his  "inferiors." 
One  born  in  the  gutter  knows  that  he  wears  a  trans- 
parent coat,  but  he  is  determined  to  show  the  canaille 
he  belongs  to  that  he  rides  on  horseback  now,  and 
can  and  will  splash  them  with  the  mud  he  used 
to  grovel  in,  whereas,  one  who  has  been  used  to 
ride  from  the  nursery  up  skillfully  pirouettes 
through  the  crowd,  and  is  admired  for  his  dex- 
terity, not  a  man  of  whom  but  will  deem  himself 
honored  to  be  allowed  to  hold  his  horse  while  he 
dismounts. 

The  elder  East  had  been  captain  of  the  rifle  corps, 
and  it  had  become  necessary,  at  least  temporarily, 
to  fill  his  place,  so  the  first  lieutenant  was  promoted 
to  command  the  company,  and  an  invitation  was 
conveyed  to  Frank  to  join  as  first  lieutenant,  the 
company  to  remain  as  it  had  done  for  some  years 
without  a  full  complement  of  officers.  Suitable  men 
were  scarce.  Mitchell  might,  perhaps,  have  quali- 
fied, but  he  would  rather  remain  outside  and  laugh 
at  the  others. 

Frank  had  been  a  member  of  the  corps  at  the 
university,  and  knew  his  drill  pretty  well,  besides 
being  a  passable  shot,  so  he  rather  welcomed  the 
oflFer  of  an  opportunity  to  mix  with  the  men  and 
make  himself  useful,  but  he  never  undertook  to  do 
anything,  even  the  most  trifling,  without  trying  to 


and  tfte  Pufillcan 141 

do  it  as  well  as  it  could  be  done,  and  as  there 
were  three  kinds  of  examination  for  efficiency  open 
to  him,  the  only  one  which  really  connoted  much 
being  that  conducted  by  the  Colonel  at  the  School  of 
Instruction,  Grenadier  Barracks,  he  determined  td 
take  a  month  off,  and  go  through  the  proper  cur- 
riculum in  London.  It  was,  of  course,  not  diffi- 
cult for  him  to  choose  a  time  between  accounts  and 
arrange  so  as  to  be  away  over  only  one  pay,  and 
in  due  time  he  found  himself  back  again  for  a 
brief  stay  in  his  old  haunts.  He  had,  however, 
counted  without  his  host  when  he  had  imagined  that 
the  school  was  more  or  less  of  a  perfunctory  and 
ornamental  character,  for  the  colonel  in  charge  was' 
a  martinet  of  martinets,  and  our  budding  soldier 
very  soon  found  that  out,  to  his  great  discomfort. 
A  notice  was  sent  him  to  be  at  the  barracks  at  10 
A.  M.,  and,  thinking  that  many  others  would  be  in 
receipt  of  a  similar  notice,  he  made  no  effort  to  be 
punctual,  as  he  anticipated  that  they  would  be  in- 
terviewed, one  by  one,  as  they  came  in,  and  pos- 
sibly he  would  have  to  wait  an  hour  or  two  till  his 
turn  came.  Arriving  at  ten  minutes  past  the  hour, 
however,  he  found  the  officers  standing  in  line, 
and  being  addressed  by  the  colonel.  Curtly  he  was 
asked  why  he  was  late,  and,  making  no  reply — 
which  he  believed  to  be  in  accordance  with  mili- 
tary practice — was  informed  that  the  colonel  would 
have  to  begin  all  over  again.  As  that  was  not  the 
first  time  a  colonel  would  have  "to  begin  all  over 


143 Cfte 

again/'  it  didn't  seem  important  to  the  recruit,  so 
he  took  his  place  at  the  foot  of  the  line  and  listened. 
The  address  was  of  the  usual  type  indulged  in  by 
the  man  who  glorifies  the  profession  he  happens  to 
belong  to  as  the  greatest  in  the  world,  and  the  pane- 
gyric of  discipline  made  Bartholdi's  statue  of  lib- 
erty look  like  a  monkey  on  a  stick,  but  the  only  mat- 
ter of  importance  to  the  little  audience  of  about 
thirty  militia  and  volunteer  officers,  the  programme 
for  the  month,  was  omitted  from  the  oration.  At 
its  close  they  were  asked  to  walk  out  to  the  parade 
ground,  which  they  did,  and  were  immediately 
called  upon  to  "fall  in,"  when  they  were  put  through 
what  most  of  them  had  already  gone  through  at 
school,  where  the  exercises  were  known  as  the  "ex- 
tension motions." 

East  began  to  think  that  he  had  made  a  mistake. 
He  thought  he  had  come  there  to  be  made  an  effici- 
ent volunteer  officer,  but  it  seemed  that  he  was  to  be 
converted  into  an  imitation  Tommy  Atkins,  and  his 
reflective  mood  interfered  with  his  alertness  so 
much  that  the  colonel  took  it  upon  him  to  step 
around  and  remark  to  him  that  if  he  didn't  wish  to 
pay  attention  he  need  not  proceed  any  further  with 
the  instruction.  Immediately  Tommy  awoke  to  his 
surroundings  and  executed  the  goose  step  thereafter 
with  ludicrous  precision,  taking  the  continuance  of 
the  "instruction,"  for  the  time  being,  "under  advise- 
ment," as  the  California  judges  say.  This  child's 
guide  to  knowledge  continued  till  lunch  time,  when 


anD  tf)c  publican 143 

the  bulwarks  of  England's  greatness  "fell  out"  for 
sustenance,  an  hour  being  allowed  for  the  purpose, 
which  was  consummated  at  a  neighboring  hotel. 

After  lunch  there  was  still  no  programme  vouch- 
safed, but  forty  grenadiers,  divided  up  into  groups 
of  ten  to*  represent  companies,  were  provided,  and 
these  were  officered  by  the  candidates  for  the  colo- 
nel's certificate  as  instructor,  captain,  right  and  left 
guide,  and  right  and  left  marker,  each  moving 
through  the  cycle  by  changes  being  effected  every 
morning  and  afternoon.  Company  drill  was  now 
commenced,  and  the  prospects  looked  brighter. 

In  the  evening  East  met  McLean  and  a  couple  of 
other  men  at  dinner  in  the  hall  of  the  inn,  when  he 
related  his  experiences,  and  said  that,  but  that  real 
instruction  seemed  now  to  have  begun,  he  should  be 
inclined  to  content  himself  with  the  lower  certifi- 
cate, rather  than  put  up  with  any  more  of  the  colo- 
nel's airs.  He  blamed  his  unfortunate  habit  of 
pocketing  his  wrath  for  the  time  being,  so  as  to 
consider  the  question  carefully  before  acting,  for 
not  having  marched  out  of  the  barracks  with  the 
dignity  becoming  to  the  offended  majesty  of  the 
law,  but  McLean  observed: 

"Go  ahead  with  it,  man;  they'll  noht  hurrt  ye. 
Whane  they  stick  a  sword  in  ye,  ye  can  saind  f'r 
th'  p'lice,  but  as  lohng  as  they  confine  themsailves 
to  ohbsairvations,  ye  need  pay  no  more  attention  to 
them  than  I  do  to  those  of  my  lairned  fraind  heer, 
Mr.  Joan  .White.  If  ye  must  lairn  this  monkey^ 


144 C6e  Pharisee 

business,  which,  however,  I  see  no  need  for,  stick  to 
it  till  ye've  lairnt  it,  and  whain  ye  have  the  colonel's 
certificate,  if  ye  see  fit  then  to  condescend  to  ad- 
dress any  ohbservations  to  that  bantam,  stick  out 
yer  chaist,  ailevate  yer  right  arrm  and  call  him  a 
parallelogram  or  any  other  respectable  geometrical 
figure  ye've  a  mind  to  degrade  by  the  comparison." 
It  will  serve  no  useful  purpose  to  dwell  on  the 
monotonous  course  of  instruction  at  the  barracks, 
for  company  drill  and  guard  mounting  were  con- 
tinued without  variation,  morning  and  evening,  for 
two  weeks,  when  battalion  drill  was  begun,  but 
during  the  progress  of  these  evolutions  two  inci- 
dents worthy  of  notice  occurred.  The  first  was 
when  the  "march  past"  was  being  executed  and 
markers  were  placed  for  the  purpose.  When  East's 
company,  of  which  he  was  then  acting  as  captain, 
came  to  the  saluting  point,  the  marker,  who  was 
sergeant  major,  had  rushed  at  something  he  had 
seen  amiss  in  the  ranks,  and  there  was  no  marker, 
so  East  gave  no  word  of  command,  and  the  com- 
pany actually  marched  by  the  invisible  presence 
without  sticking  their  rifles  in  front  of  their  noses. 
Immediately  the  colonel  halted  the  whole  battalion 
and  addressed  them  on  the  unbelievable  stupidity 
of  a  man  not  knowing  enough  to  give  a  word  of 
command  when  a  mark  had  been  placed  to  make  it 
easy  for  him.  East  saw  that  this  drill  worshipper 
had  determined  to  make  himself  odious  to  him,  if 
possible,  for  it  was  as  patent  to  him  as  to  anybody 


and  tftc  puftlitan 145 

else  that  the  marker  had  moved,  but  again  he  re- 
served his  reply  till  he  was  ready,  though  it  would 
have  been  only  right  for  him  to  resent  this  last  at- 
tack by  shouting  at  the  top  of  his  voice:  "You  saw 
the  marker  move.  I  did  not,  as  he  was  hidden  from 
me  by  the  company,  and  it  was  not  till  I  saw  him 
coming  back  that  I  knew  that  it  was  he  who  was 
in  the  wrong." 

The  final  occasion  was  too  much  even  for  East's 
patience.  The  battalion  was  drawn  up  in  line,  and 
the  colonel  gave  the  word  to  form  square.  It  was 
then  the  duty  of  the  commanders  of  the  flank  com- 
panies to  give  the  word  to  wheel,  but  seeing  the 
colonel  start  suddenly  forward  they  did  nothing. 
He  rushed  across  the  two  hundred  paces  which 
separated  him  from  the  men,  stuck  his  cane  in 
East's  stomach — he  was  then  acting  as  right  guide 
— and  shouted:  "What  are  .you  doing  there  spoiling 
the  face  of  the  square?"  Most  men  would  have 
thereupon  knocked  him  down,  but  East  continued 
the  conduct  he  believed  to  be  expected  of  him  as  a 
soldier — and  never  moved.  He  knew  he  was  right, 
and  simply  silently  stayed  where  he  was.  The 
colonel  was  nonplused.  He  could  not  do  anything 
with  this  man,  so  he  marched  back,  once  more 
sung  out:  "The  battalion  will  form  square,"  the 
flank  commanders  gave  the  word  to  wheel,  and  the 
right  guide  of  number  two  stepped  within  the 
square,  as  was  his  duty. 


Cfre  Pfmtigee 


When  the  men  were  dismissed  for  lunch,  East 
stepped  up  to  the  colonel,  and  said: 

"I  shall  not  be  coming  back  this  afternoon  or  on 
the  two  days  of  the  month  that  remain.  For  some 
reason  or  other  you  have  made  it  your  business  to 
be  insolent  to  me,  and  on  two  occasions  when  I  was 
right,  and  you  were  wrong,  you  have  sought  to 
degrade  me  before  the  whole  battalion.  I  have 
borne  with  this  because  I  came  here  to  learn  the 
child's  play  you  have  to  teach  and  not  to  pay  any 
attention  to  the  ill-manners  of  my  instructors.  On 
going,  however,  I  recommend  that  in  future  when 
you  place  markers  you  do  not  allow  them  to  move 
while  an  evolution  is  being  executed,  and  before 
you  seek  to  correct  an  officer  for  not  moving  at  a 
word  which  is  merely  cautionary,  and  not  executory, 
you  inform  yourself  on  the  principles  which  you 
practice." 

It  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  the  colonel  willingly 
submitted  to  the  delivery  of  this  harangue,  but  the 
men  were  gone,  a  wall  was  behind  him,  and  a  man 
with  fire  in  his  eye  was  in  front,  there  being  only 
one  or  two  sympathetic  listeners,  who  were  almost 
as  offended  as  East,  in  the  vicinity. 

Frank  turned  and  walked  through  the  barracks 
gates,  while  the  colonel  heaved  a  sigh  out  of  the 
bottom  of  his  boots  and  went  to  his  quarters,  hav- 
ing, for  the  first  time  since  he  had  become  a  thing 
of  beauty  in  gold  lace  and  spurs,  had  the  truth 
about  himself  spoken  plainly  to  his  face,  and  hav- 


anP  tfte  publican 


ing  thereat  quite  lost  the  customary  presence  of  — 
voice  which  was  habitual  to  him.  Frank  would  have 
to  content  himself  with  an  ordinary  certificate,  but 
that  was  a  mere  detail.  He  had  learned  how  they 
did  things  at  the  Grenadier  Guards,  and  whatever 
that  might  be  worth  to  a  volunteer  officer,  he  had 
acquired.  In  company  drill,  four  officers  had  been 
called  up  before  him,  and  all  had  failed.  The 
colonel  did  his  best  to  make  him  the  fifth,  but  it 
was  impossible.  He  would  do  the  things  he  was 
called  upon  to  do,  and  he  had  to  be  the  first  let 
through,  even  though  it  was  the  martinet's  con- 
stant assertion  that  he  would  give  his  certificate  to 
no  officer  that  "was  not  fit  to  command  a  company 
in  action"  —  a  thing  he  knew  just  as  much  about  as 
any  other  vox  et  prater  ea  nihil. 


148  Cfte 


CHAPTER  XV. 

A  few  days  prior  to  our  hero's  return  from  Lon- 
don, Miriam  had  arrived,  and  before  he  made  his 
appearance,  had  become  a  familiar  member  of  the 
household,  the  delight  of  the  children,  and  the  in- 
divisible other  half  of  Gertrude.  His  coming,  how- 
ever, acted  as  a  check  on  the  prevailing  exuberance 
of  spirits,  and  especially  between  him  and  the  source 
of  all  the  mirth  a  dense  cloud  seemed  to  have  de- 
scended. Until  this  time,  even  the  contemplative 
John  had  given  way  to  gayety  somewhat  resem- 
bling the  efforts  of  a  hippopotamus  to  join  the 
dance,  but  now,  wherever  Frank  was,  even  Miriam 
became  pensive.  With  him  out  of  the  way  dull  care 
was  soon  dissipated,  but  gloom  seemed  to  follow  in 
his  wake.  This  was  not  ordinarily  the  effect  of 
his  presence,  for,  though  not  boisterous,  he  was 
never  a  killjoy,  but  Gertrude  very  soon  noticed  that 
this  was  the  effect  he  seemed  to  have  on  the  visitor, 
and  with  the  instinct  of  her  sex,  she  perceived  it  to 
be  a  symptom  of  the  first  stage  of  the  tender  pas- 
sion. She  quickly  changed  her  mind,  however, 
when  she  found  that  Miriam  seemed  apparently  in- 
different to  any  attentions  that  Frank  might  offer, 


miD  tfte  Publican 149 

or  any  observations  he  might  make,  and  in  this,  she 
showed  that  she  was  still  young,  for  an  old  cam- 
paigner would  have  recognized  this  as  a  much  more 
serious  symptom  than  the  other.  Love,  when  it  be- 
gins naturally,  is  a  slow  and  gentle  poison  which 
gradually  transfuses  through  the  system  until  the 
victim  becomes  oblivious  and  careless  about  its  man- 
ifestations, but,  on  the  other  hand,  when  the  arrow 
suddenly  strikes  in  a  vital  spot,  the  wounded  one 
writhes  and  struggles  in  vain  to  hide  the  barb 
which  pierces  still,  and  ever  throbs  and  burns. 

After  the  manner  of  women,  Miriam  and  Ger- 
trude preferred  not  to  be  alone;  consequently  they 
occupied  the  same  bedroom.  They  usually  went  up- 
stairs about  an  hour  before  Frank,  but  their  light 
was  always  burning  when  he  went  to  his  room,  and 
he  silently  wondered  "what  on  earth  these  girls  can 
put  away  the  time  about."  There  is  not  anything 
wonderful  about  it.  They  simply  sit  and  talk,  talk, 
talk,  till  their  tongues  refuse  to  wag  any  more.  The 
time  is  divided  unequally  between  the  men  and  their 
own  clothes,  but  they  never  stray  outside  these  two 
subjects.  Men  have  other  interests,  and  so  have 
women,  occasionally,  when  others  are  listening,  but 
two  of  them  alone  never  desert  the  only  topics  that 
really  interest  them.  One  night  this  is  what  our 
hero  might  have  heard,  had  he  listened : 

"Why  are  you  so  snappish  with  Frank,  Miriam?" 
"I  didn't  know  that  I  was,  but  why  shouldn't  I 


150 Cfre  ptmtigee 

be?  He  treats  me  as  if  I  belonged  to  another 
species." 

"You  don't  understand  him.  You  forget  that  he 
has  developed  a  lot  since  you  knew  him  as  a  little 
boy." 

"I  think  I  make  every  allowance  for  that,"  said 
Miriam,  "but  he  seems  to  have  frozen  stiff.  We 
appear  to  have  developed  along  different  lines." 

"Well,  you're  not.  going  the  way  to  melt  him. 
Perhaps  you  don't  want  to." 

"Or  I  might  try  a  little  warmth  ?" 

"Exactly.  Unless  you  unbend  to  him  he  never 
will  to  you.  He  has  too  much  respect  for  you  to 
be  familiar." 

"I'll  see  what  I  can  do  to  oblige  you." 

"You  were  not  so  before  he  came.  Why  don't 
you  behave  just  as  you  did  when  he  was  not  here?" 

"My  dear  girl,  that  was  all  very  well  with  the 
children,  but  what  do  you  suppose  such  a  very 
proper  person  as  your  brother  would  think  of  a 
tomboy?" 

"Then  you  do  care  what  he  thinks?" 

"Just  as  much  as  I  care  what  anybody  thinks.  I 
don't  positively  try  to  make  myself  objectionable 
to  my  friends,  you  know.  I  should  like  to  be 
thought  well  of,  even  by  the  Sphinx." 

"Well,  I  can  tell  you  this  about  Frank.  He  likes 
only  people  who  are  natural.  Any  affectation  of  any 
kind  he  simply  despises." 


anD  tfte  Pufiltom 151 

"Do  you  mean  that  I  am  not  natural  when  I  try 
to  behave  with  sanity  ?" 

"I  know  that  your  natural  self  is  a  good  deal 
more  cheerful  than  you  have  been  for  some  days." 

And  so  on  and  so  on  ad  dormiendum. 

Miriam  had  often  sung-  to  please  the  children  or 
Gertrude,  but,  as  yet,  Frank  had  not  heard  her,  so, 
on  the  following  evening,  addressing  her,  he  said : 

"I  have  not  asked  you  to  sing  because  I  know 
how  much  professional  people  dislike  doing  what 
becomes  a  weariness  to  them,  after  years  of  prac- 
tice, but,  if  you  only  knew  how  much  I  should 
like  to  hear  you,  I  believe  you  would  be  willing  to 
gratify  me." 

"I  shall  be  very  glad.  I  understand  what  you 
mean  about  professional  people.  Even  the  most 
delightful  things  that  we  once  loved  to  distraction 
can  become  tiresome,  but  I  am  still  in  love  with 
singing." 

"I  am  very  glad  to  hear  it,  for  I  shall  have  cour- 
age to  ask  you  oftener  than  I  otherwise  would." 

"I  suppose  your  taste  is  rather  severe,  isn't  it? 
You  would  prefer  something  classical?" 

"I  would  rather  hear  what  pleases  you  best  to 
sing.  You  will  sing  it  best,  and  we  shall  all  be 
pleased." 

"I  really  don't  know  what  I  like  best.  It  de- 
pends on  my  mood.  Just  now  I  am  taken  by  a 
simple  little  thing,  just  out,  'Only  An  Ivy  Leaf/ 
Have  you  heard  it?" 


152 Cfie 

He  had  not,  so  Miriam  sang  it,  and,  of  course, 
had  to  follow  it  by  another,  and  yet  another.  Then 
turning  to  Frank,  she  said: 

"Now  it's  your  turn.     What  will  you  sing?" 

"I'm  afraid  it  would  be  too  much  like  a  frog 
trying  to  answer  a  nightingale.  After  the  singing 
you  have  been  accustomed  to  listen  to,  my  wood- 
notes  wild  would  sound  even  more  wild  and  woody 
than  usual." 

"On  the  contrary,  it  is  quite  seldom  that  I  hear 
good  singing.  Some  of  the  pupils  at  the  Academy 
are  like  the  donkey,  with  plenty  of  voice,  but  no 
notion ;  others  are  like  the  owl,  with  lots  of  notion, 
but  no  voice.  There  are  very  few  nightingales,  I 
assure  you/' 

"Sing  something  out  of  //  Trovatore,  Frank,"  put 
in  Gertrude.  "You  never  have  anybody  to  listen 
to  the  really  great  things  you  sing  that  knows 
enough  to  appreciate  them." 

"What  is  that?  //  Trovatore?"  exclaimed  Miriam, 
"so  I  have  been  singing  before  a  critic,  have  I? 
Why  didn't  you  tell  me,  Gertrude?" 

"Yes,  I  know  good  singing  when  I  hear  it,  and 
I  get  the  greatest  delight  of  my  life  when  I  do, 
but  it  is  quite  another  thing  to  do  yourself  what 
you  would  have  others  do." 

"Well,  I  do  want  to  hear  somebody  sing  Ah  clue 
la  Morte,  like  it  ought  to  be  sung.  May  be  you 
are  not  a  tenor?" 

"I    don't    know    what    I    am,"    replied    Frank. 


ana  tfte  Ptiftlfcan 


"When  you  have  heard  me,  perhaps,  you  will  be 
able  to  say  whether  my  voice  is  a  wheelbarrow  tone 
or  what." 

"Will  you  please  sing  Ah  che  la  Mortef 

Frank,  of  course,  complied,  and  hardly  had  he 
uttered  the  first  note  than  Miriam  was  visibly 
profoundly  affected.  She  trembled,  her  colour  came 
and  went,  and  she  seemed  to  have  the  greatest  dif- 
ficulty in  maintaining  a  composure  which  had  been 
singularly  unruffled  for  some  days.  At  the  close  of 
the  song  her  hands  dropped  to  her  lap,  and  she 
said  nothing  for  some  moments,  when  she  appar- 
ently came  to  herself,  said  simply,  "Thank  you," 
left  the  music  stool,  and  seated  herself  by  Gre- 
trude's  side. 

"Well/5  said  the  latter,  "what  is  it,  a  tenor?" 

"Oh,  don't  ask  me.  I  don't  want  to  say  anything 
now." 

"Now,  Frank,  sing  something  for  the  rest  of 
us,"  said  John.  "Let's  have  Father  O'Flynn,  or 
the  German  drinking  song." 

"Oh,  John,  you're  of  the  earth  earthy,"  said  Ger- 
trude. 

"Why  not  sing  something  yourself,  John?" 
asked  Miriam,  who  seemed  to  be  waking  up  again, 
now  that  things  were  getting  mundane. 

"I  only  sing  to  the  accompaniment  of  the  trom- 
bone," replied  John.  "I  need  competition  to  bring 
out  the  excellencies  of  my  voice  production.  Go 
on,  Frank;  sing  Drinking. 


Cfte 


"The  idea!"  exclaimed  Miriam.  "Fancy  expect- 
ing a  tenor  to  sing  the  great  show-off  bass  song!" 

"Well,  I  have  heard  that  tenor  do  it  before  now," 
replied  John,  "and  it  wouldn't  surprise  me  if  he 
could  do  it  again.  Silence,  gentlemen,  please.  Mr. 
East  will  oblige." 

So  Frank  sang  Im  tiefen  Keller,  as  if  bass  was 
his  native  language  and  Miriam  could  contain  her- 
self no  longer  : 

"Is  this  a  spiritual  seance,  or  what?"  she  said, 
"do  we  sleep  or  do  we  dream?  Such  curious  things 
are  happening  that  I  am  not  quite  sure  that  I  am 
in  complete  possession  of  my  senses." 

"We  are  accustomed  to  it,"  laughed  Gertrude. 
"I  am  only  surprised  that  he  doesn't  treat  us  to 
some  soprano  sometimea  I  have  no  doubt  he 
could  if  he  would." 

Not  very  long  afterward  the  girls  went  upstairs 
to  bed  and  the  conversation  of  the  night  before 
was  resumed. 

"Will  you  please  tell  me  what  it  was  you  would 
not  say  about  Frank's  voice?"  asked  Gertrude. 

"I  simply  could  not  say  anything.  I  never 
heard  anything  so  wonderful  in  my  life.  I  don't 
believe  there  is  any  such  compass  in  all  the  world, 
the  quality  of  it  is  simply  superb,  and  he  never  let 
himself  out  once  to-night.  He  could  fill  Albert 
Hall  either  with  a  tenor  B  or  a  bass  F.  He  sings, 
too,  like  one  who  had  never  done  anything  else  all 
his  life.  Even  his  Italian  and  his  German  seem 


attO  tfre  Publican IBS 

as  familiar  to  him  as  English.  He  never  once  got 
mixed  in  those  difficult  Italian  syllables.  You 
know  how  it  is.  As  it  were,  you  sing  two  or  three 
syllables  to  one  note  and  many  people  never  learn 
to  do  it  properly." 

"So  you  think  he  can  sing  a  bit?" 

"I  am  satisfied  that  he  has  one  of  the  most  mar- 
vellous voices  that  ever  issued  from  the  throat  of 


man." 


"You  twp  will  no  doubt  get  on  better  together 
now." 

"Why  doesn't  he  make  singing  his  profession?" 

"He  says  he  wants  to  get  his  living  by  his  brains, 
not  his  throat.  Of  course,  that  doesn't  mean  that 
he  thinks  any  the  less  of  you  on  that  account." 

"I  understand  that.  He  is  right.  Singing  is 
all  very  well  for  a  woman,  but  a  man  ought  to 
live  by  his  brains,  if  he  has  any.  There  is  no 
longer  any  market  for  muscle,  though  we  all  of 
us  admire  brawn  more  than  we  do  brain  still,  don't 
we?" 

"I  do,  I  know;  but  the  man  I  fall  in  love  with 
will  have  both.  The  sentiment  will  be  inspired  by 
the  brawn,  but  my  self-respect  will  require  that 
he  possess  at  least  sufficient  mind  to  command  those 
he  comes  in  contact  with.  The  complacent,  snick- 
ering timeserver  won't  suit  me.  My  man  will  put 
his  foot  down,  and  his  motto  will  be  J'y  suis  et 
j'y  rested 


156 C&e 

"I  hope  you'll  find  him,  my  dear,  but  I  believe 
that  most  of  us  will  have  to  put  up  with  an  in- 
ferior article  or  one  that  we  look  at  through  rose- 
colored  glasses." 


ana  tfte  Publican 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

Next  morning  the  change  in  Miriam's  manner  to 
Frank  was  obvious.  Instead  of  disagreeing  with 
him  and  cutting  him  short  at  every  opportunity,  she 
seemed  to  dwell  on  every  word  he  uttered  as  though 
it  proceeded  from  an  oracle.  And  to  what  was  the 
difference  due?  Merely  to  the  fact  that  she  had 
discovered  that  he  could  sing.  Such  is  the  influ- 
ence of  the  voice  of  the  male  biped  on  the  mind 
of  the  female.  He  was  no  wiser,  no  stronger,  no 
greater  in  any  way,  but  he  could  warble  to  her  and 
she  could  but  coo  in  response. 

At  breakfast  Frank  announced  that  business 
would  take  him  to  Camruth  that  day  and  that  the 
girls  would  have  to  get  on  without  him.  Miriam 
was  visibly  disappointed. 

When  the  meal  was  over  Frank  strolled  over  to 
the  hotel  to  see  if  Mitchell  hadn't  business  in  Cam- 
ruth, too,  and  naturally  found  that  he  had.  In 
half  an  hour  they  were  on  horseback  and  on  their 
way.  They  had  not  gone  far  when  Tom  broke 
out  with: 

"Well,  how  is  the  lovemaking  progressing?  You 
must  have  been  having  a  high  old  time  lately." 


158. Cfte  Pimtigee 

"I  think  your  prescription  is  working.  At  first 
I  got  worse  because  the  girl  would  none  of  me, 
but  I  sang  to  her  and  broke  the  spell.  Now  she  is 
like  a  lamb.  I  know  that  I  have  won  and  in  conse- 
quence of  that  fact  I  am  already  losing  interest  in 
the  game.  It  is  always  so  with  me.  The  pursuit  of 
anything  is  exhilarating,  but  when  once  I  have  at- 
tained my  end  I  want  some  other  quarry." 

"I  knew  how  it  would  be.  You  were  no  more 
in  love  with  the  girl  than  I  was.  You  were  sim- 
ply in  love  with  yourself.  You  saw  something  you 
fancied  you  wanted  and  you  went  after  it  till  you 
got  it.  Now  you  are  satisfied." 

"I  am  afraid  it  is  not  a  very  lovable  character, 
but  it  is  mine.  Besides,  what  business  should  I 
have  falling  in  love  with  a  girl?  I  have  all  these 
children  on  my  hands  now,  and  then  have  a  ca- 
reer to  make  at  the  bar,  if  I  ever  get  back  there. 
I  could  not  possibly  get  married  for  ten  years  to 
come." 

"Hold  hard  a  minute.  The  mare  has  picked  up 
a  stone,"  said  Mitchell,  as  he  flung  himself  off  and 
pulled  a  pocketknife  from  somewhere  about  his 
person.  In  a  moment  the  stone  was  out  by  the 
aid  of  the  hook  attached  to  the  knife,  and  Mitchell's 
attention  was  attracted  by  an  object  in  a  bush  close 
by.  "Well,  I'll  be  jiggered!  I'm  a  Dutchman  if 
I  don't  know  that  hat,"  and  reaching  forward  he 
pulled  a  battered  black  square-topped  hard  felt  hat 
out  of  a  tangle  of  hawthorn  branches. 


anD  tfte  ptiflUcan 159 

Frank  instantly  recognized  the  hat  of  his  father, 
and  close  scrutiny  convinced  him. 

"Well,  what  do  you  think?"  said  Mitchell.  "That 
solves  the  mystery,  doesn't  it?" 

"No,  I  hardly  think  it  does." 

"Why,  it  is  plain  to  me.  He  was  waylaid  in  this 
lonely  spot  under  the  supposition  that  he  was  car- 
rying the  bank  money,  resisted,  was  murdered,  and 
his  body  thrown  into  one  of  the  shafts  around 
here." 

"That  sounds  plausible,  but  how  did  the  hat  get 
hidden  in  that  bush?  It  would  have  gone  into  the 
shaft  with  him  or  be  lying  around  loose,  whereas 
there  it  has  been  securely  hidden  and  might  have 
been  for  all  time  if  your  mare  hadn't  happened  to 
pick  up  a  stone  just  opposite  the  place." 

"/Very  likely  the  affray  occurred  at  some  dis- 
tance from  here,  and  the  hat,  at  first  loose,  was 
blown  into  the  bush.  You  see,  its  position  was 
such  that  the  prevailing  wind  could  have  done  it, 
except  that  I  don't  know  if  it  wasn't  too  far  in. 
At  any  rate,  it  was  too  much  hidden  to  have  been 
placed  there  purposely  to  throw  people  off  the 
scent." 

"Well,  I  think  you  had  better  put  it  back.  It 
is  no  use  taking  it  to  Camruth,  and  on  the  way  we 
can  determine  what  is  best  to  be  done.  At  any 
rate,  we  had  better  say  nothing  about  it  at  home. 
The  family  are  quiet  now,  and  it  is  no  use  opening 
the  old  wound  unless  we  can  heal  it." 


160 C&e 

"We  had  better  have  these  shafts  looked  into, 
though.  We  can  arrange  for  that  without  exciting 
suspicion,  though  most  of  them  are  too  deep  and 
the  ladders  have  been  taken  out  of  nearly  all  of 
them/' 

"The  surface  of  the  water  can  be  reached  in  some 
of  them  by  a  rope,  but  I  think  it  will  be  useless. 
In  fact,  I  would  rather  not  have  the  mystery 
cleared  than  find  out  that  he  was  actually  mur- 
dered." 

In  due  time  they  arrived  at  Camruth,  and  Frank 
repaired  to  the  bank  while  Tom  went  about  his 
"business,"  which  consisted  mainly  in  waiting  in 
the  barroom  of  the  hotel  chatting  with  acquaint- 
ances until  his  friend  should  again  make  his  ap- 
pearance. 

On  being  ushered  into  old  Ellis'  private  room 
Frank  said : 

"I  got  your  letter  asking  me  to  call  when  I  had 
business  in  town  next,  so  here  I  am." 

"Yes,  I  didn't  want  to  see  you  about  anything 
in  particular — merely  to  have  a  chat  about  Red- 
borne  affairs,  you  know.  How  are  things  up 
there?" 

"There  is  no  difference  worth  mentioning.  The 
mines  are  about  paying  cost,  as  they  have  been 
ever  since  my  father's  disappearance.  The  lodes 
don't  cut  out  nor  do  they  improve  to  any  great 
extent." 

"Well,  how  are  you  getting  on  with  the  people? 


anD  tfte  Publican 


Are  you  getting  more  reconciled  to  your  surround- 
ings?" 

"Do  you  think  it  possible  that  a  fish  out  of  water 
would  become  reconciled  to  his  surroundings?" 
asked  Frank,  with  a  smile. 

"Ah!"  sighed  the  old  man,  "I  didn't  suppose  it 
was  quite  as  bad  as  that,  but  certainly  from  what 
I  hear  you  don't  seem  to  be  getting  on  as  well  as 
I  hoped  you  would." 

"So  the  gossip  reaches  you,  does  it?" 

"Gossip,  do  you  call  it?  We  get  anonymous 
letters  about  you  by  the  score/' 

"Can  that  really  be  so?  What  can  I  possibly 
have  done  to  make  enemies?  I  was  not  aware  that 
I  had  injured  anybody." 

"I'm  sure  I  don't  know  what  you've  done,  but, 
if  these  letters  were  to  be  believed,  there  wouldn't 
be  much  left  that  you  hadn't  done." 

"I  suppose  I  may  take  it  for  granted  that  you 
don't  believe  them?" 

"It  is  a  kind  of  thing  we  are  accustomed  to,  and 
as  a  rule  we  don't  pay  much  attention  to  them. 
We  frequently  get  threatened  with  death  our- 
selves. When  they  get  very  frequent  and  very  bad, 
however,  there  is  usually  some  foundation  of  some 
sort  for  them,  and  we  generally  look  into  the  mat- 
ter a  bit  if  we  have  enough  regard  for  the  person 
vilified." 

"And  that  is  why  you  wanted  to  see  me?" 

"Well,  not  altogether  that,  either.     I  wanted  to 


162 Cfte 

talk  more  particularly  about  the  mines.  It  seems 
you  have  been  having  some  correspondence  with 
the  shareholders  in  London." 

''Naturally.     I  often  hear  from  them,  of  course." 

"But  some  you  have  been  advising,  I  believe." 

"When  my  advice  has  been  sought,  yes." 

"Then  I  may  take  it  that  you  feel  fully  compe- 
tent to  give  advice  about  mining?" 

"No,  you  may  not.  Nobody  has  asked  for  any 
such  advice.  What  I  have  given  has  been  about 
investing  in  mining." 

"And  you  have  not  recommended  it." 

"Would  you?" 

"That  would  depend." 

"That  is  to  say,  you  would  advise  some  people 
to  do  it  but  not  others?" 

"Well,  my  advice  has  not  been  sought  in  the 
particular  case  or  cases  I  refer  to,  but  yours  has, 
and  you  have  advised  against  it,  as  I  am  informed." 

"I  certainly  have." 

"Do  you  call  that  business-like?" 

"No,  I  call  it  honest." 

"I  thought  as  much.  Thank  you,  that  is  all  I 
want  to  know.  Good  morning." 

The  one  finger  was  held  out,  but  not  seen,  and 
Frank  went  back  to  Tom,  whom  he  found  seated 
in  the  barroom  surrounded  by  a  small  crowd  of 
habitues,  whom  he  was  entertaining  with  a  story 
about  the  Redborne  rifle  corps  continuing  to  march 


tfjc  publican 163 

while  its  captain  puffed  behind  shouting  "Halt! 
Halt,  please!  Halt!" 

John  Hollow  lived  almost  at  the  junction  of  the 
roads  from  Camruth  and  the  Land's  End,  so,  on 
the  way  home,  our  well-nigh  inseparable  pair  looked 
in  on  the  sick  man.  For  a  time  he  had  improved 
greatly  on  the  nutritious  diet  which  his  friends  had 
supplied,  but  at  that  time  phthisis  was  not  so  well 
understood  as  it  is  to-day,  and  that  terrible  scourge 
of  the  poor  in  pocket  and  poor  in  blood  had  taken 
too  firm  a  grip  of  the  exhausted  frame  before  the 
aid  had  come.  He  had  suffered  in  silence,  and  even 
Tom  had  not  heard  how  seriously  ill  he  was. 

As  they  entered  they  found  the  children  seated 
in  hushed  silence  in  the  kitchen.  Their  mother, 
hearing  the  sound  of  the  door,  came  out  of  the 
adjoining  room  and  invited  them  in.  The  skin- 
clothed  skeleton  of  what  was  once  the  rural  ath- 
lete was  stretched  motionless  upon  the  bed  and  Dr. 
Slow  was  standing  by  its  side.  A  faint  voice 
broke  the  stillness : 

"Ez  gittin'  dark.  I  cayn't  see  nobody.  Who 
ez  et?" 

"Mester  Heast  and  Mester  Mitchell  come  to  see 
'e,  John,"  replied  his  wife. 

"I'm  bra'n'  glad,"  said  the  poor  fellow,  "I  ded 
want  to  say  good-by  to  they.  Ef  'e  was  more  like 
they  in  the  world  e'  w'udn'  be  sj  many  like  me. 
Gi'e  me  your  'and,  Mester  Mitchell,  I  cayn't  play 
no  more.  I'm — too — tired " 


164 Cfce 

For  a  moment  or  two  his  lips  continued  to  move, 
then  a  slight  shiver  passed  through  the  worn-out 
frame,  the  blind  eyes  became  fixed,  and  John's 
"innings"  was  over. 


attD  tfte  pu&lfcan  165 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

After  leaving  the  cottage  of  the  dead  miner  for 
some  time  the  Pharisee  and  the  Publican  rode 
along  in  silence,  but  eventually  the  former  ob- 
served : 

"Well,  we've  seen  one  finish  to-day.  I  see  an- 
other." 

"Which  particular  one  do  you  refer  to?"  asked 
Tom. 

"My  own/'  replied  Frank.  "I  am  convinced  that 
old  Ellis  means  mischief.  I  advised  one  or  two 
London  shareholders  who  have  been  losing  heavily 
in  Cornish  mining  to  get  out  of  it,  and  naturally 
the  report  of  it  has  reached  him,  as  I  knew  it 
would." 

"Oh!  If  you've  done  that  it's  all  U  P.  But 
fthat's  just  like  you.  That  head  of  yours  must  be 
"pretty  sore  with  running  up  against  stone  walls." 

"For  my  part  I  don't  see  how  it  is  possible  to  be 
honest  and  avoid  it." 

"I  know  it  isn't,  but  why  must  you  be  honest? 
[Nobody  else  is  honest  to  you.  You  should  treat 
.other  people  as  they  do  you.  That's  the  Golden 
(Rule,  isn't  it?  Do  them." 


166 Cfte  Pimti0ee 

"When  I  was  a  youngster  I  unfortunately  be- 
lieved what  my  elders  told  me.  When  they  said 
that  honesty  was  the  best  policy  I  believed  them 
and  laid  the  foundation  for  my  subsequent  char- 
acter. When  they  said  that  I  should  do  to  others 
as  I  would  that  they  should  do  to  me,  the  plan 
commended  itself  to  my  understanding,  and  I  have 
been  trying  to  do  it  ever  since,  with  the  result  that, 
as  the  Yankees  say,  I  am  played  for  a  sucker  every 
time." 

"When  you  became  a  man  you  should  have  put 
away  childish  things." 

"These  maxims  will  be  suitable  for  rules  of  con- 
duct during  the  Millennium,  but  applied  to  mun- 
dane affairs  as  at  present  regulated  they  will  be 
the  surest  way  to  the  poorhouse  that  can  be  taken. 
At  the  same  time,  amongst  professional  men  they 
are  faithfully  observed,  and  I  don't  believe  that 
any  barrister  or  doctor  would  any  more  treat  a  fel- 
low practitioner  in  any  other  way  than  with  per- 
fect honesty  and  precisely  as  he  would  wish  to  be 
treated  than  he  would  debase  the  coinage  of  the 
realm." 

"You  ought  to  have  changed  your  clothes  before 
you  came  home.  The  miners,  poor  beggars,  are 
honest  enough,  for  they  haven't  any  opportunity  to 
be  otherwise  so  as  to  amount  to  much,  but  those 
who  are  so  kind  as  to  keep  the  mines  afloat  on 
London  capital  that  they  may  be  paid  their  monthly 
dole  of  fifty  shillings  have  principles  of  their  own." 


aitD  tfte  putilfcan 167 

"As  the  mathematicians  say,  a  miner's  dishon- 
esty would  be  a  'negligible  quantity/  but  I  think  I 
could  detect  it  if  I  saw  it  I  never  did,  however." 

"Old  Diogenes  wouldn't  have  to  go  very  far 
with  his  light  in  this  community  before  coming 
across  the  article  he  was  in  search  of.  But  what 
was  it  precisely  that  you  did,  if  I  may  be  so  bold 
as  to  inquire?" 

"Oh,  yes,  we  have  been  getting  into  generali- 
ties. Well,  there  was  one  man  who  kept  after 
me  for  advice,  but  for  a  time  I  evaded  answering 
his  direct  questions  until  at  last  he  sprung  the  gol- 
den rule  on  me  and  told  me  he  expected  to  be 
treated  precisely  as  he  would  treat  me  if  I  wanted 
his  advice  on  investing  in  South  Africa,  which  he 
knew  as  much  about  as  I  did  about  West  Corn- 
wall. I  thought  the  matter  over  carefully,  fore- 
saw precisely  what  has  happened,  and  took  the 
leap.  I  told  him  that  it  was  my  opinion  that 
Australia  had  beaten  Cornwall,  and  that  Cornwall 
would  stay  beaten.  She  had  been  'counted  out' 
long  ago.  He  was  very  much  obliged  to  me,  and 
said  that  he  would  stand  by  Redborne  Consols  as 
long  as  he  could  afford  to,  as  he  knew  that  there 
was  an  honest  man  in  charge." 

"And  you  think  that  honest  man  won't  be  in 
charge  much  longer?" 

"Precisely." 

"Che  sara  sara." 

"Hello!    Where  did  you  come  by  your  Italian?" 


Cfte 


"Well,  that  motto,  being  the  Duke  of  Bedford's, 
embellishes  the  notepaper  of  the  hotel  where  I  stay 
in  London,  the  plutocrat  named  being  the  owner 
thereof.  I  have  often  heard  worthy  gentlemen 
from  the  provinces  apparently  meditating  on  what 
they  should  say  to  Sarah  when  they  were  really 
endeavoring  to  comprehend  what  Chee,  Sarah, 
Sarah,  could  possibly  mean." 

"The  Spaniards  have  a  saying,  too,  which  is  very 
much  to  the  point  :  Cuando  no  podemos  lograr 
lo  que  deseamos,  debemos  contentarnos  con  lo  que 
tenemos." 

"I  have  picked  up  scraps  of  a  good  many  tongues 
in  my  wanderings  around  the  world.  I  know  more 
Hindustani  and  Choctaw  than  I  do  Spanish,  but  as 
I  heard  the  word  content,  or  something  like  it,  I 
have  no  doubt  that  I  understand  what  the  hidalgo 
wants  to  say.  He  and  I  think  very  much  alike,  but 
you're  an  anarchist.  You  can't  do  business  on  pro- 
fessional principles." 

"I  know  it,  and  am  sorry  for  it,  but  I'm  not 
going  to  alter  my  principles  for  the  sake  of  my 
business,  but  rather  to  alter  my  business  for  the 
sake  of  my  principles.  I  think  I  shall  have  to  take 
the  family  to  London,  rent  a  little  house  in  the 
suburbs,  and  get  something  for  John  to  do  in  the 
city.  I  shall  only  lose  the  salaries  from  the  pur- 
serships,  and  I  think  in  a  little  while  I  can  make 
very  much  more  at  the  bar  than  they  amount  to." 

"You   know   your   own   business  best,   m'   son, 


anD  tftc  pufllican 169 

but  I  should  not  wonder  if  a  compromise  will  not 
be  effected,  for  your  name  is  worth  a  good  deal  in 
Cornish  mining — not  on  your  account,  you  know — 
please  don't  misunderstand  me — but  your  father's." 

"I  shall  try  not  to  anticipate  my  fate,  but  I  am 
prepared  for  eventualities." 

"I  am  going  to  make  a  move,  too,  pretty  soon. 
I've  taken  a  lease  of  Billy's  house  at  the  Land's 
End." 

"I  thought  you  would.  I  suppose  you'll  keep 
the  same  brand  of  M'zelly  for  your  friends?" 

"My  guests  will  not  be  obliged  to  drink  Moselle. 
I  shall  also  keep  beer." 

"Well,  Redborne  Consols  account  will  be  held 
next  week,  and  I  quite  expect  to  meet  my  Waterloo 
in  some  shape  or  other.  Will  you  be  my  Bliicher?" 

"I  always  maintain  a  watchful  neutrality  in  these 
conflicts  until  some  fool  steps  on  my  feet.  Then 
I  put  coals  of  fire  on  his  head,  and  I  find  the 
easiest  way  is  to  put  his  head  in  the  fireplace." 

"That  reminds  me.  You  know  I'm  a  thorough- 
going materialist.  I  think  I  have  hit  on  the  ac- 
tual physical  basis  of  pleasure  and  pain." 

"That's  nothing  new.  Pleasure  means  a  full 
belly  and  pain  means  an  empty  belly." 

"Can't  you  be  got  to  listen  to  something  really 
dry  and  serious  for  a  few  seconds?" 

"Haven't  I  often  listened  to  you  patiently  for 
a  much  longer  period?  Pray  proceed." 

"I  believe  pleasure  to  be  merely  a  form  of  mo- 


£70 Cfre 

tion,  just  as  light,  heat,  sound,  and  electricity  are. 
It  is  always  apparent  where  there  is  motion,  and 
is  absent  where  there  is  stagnation." 

"That  is  in  accordance  with  the  Irishman's  ex- 
perience when  he  fell  off  the  roof.  The  fall  was 
pleasant  enough,  but  it  was  the  check  to  the  motion 
when  he  struck  the  ground  that  caused  the  pain." 

Ignoring  Mitchell's  facetiousness,  Frank  went 
on: 

"When  our  machinery  is  active  we  are  healthy 
and  happy,  but  when  our  circulation  becomes 
clogged  pain  ensues.  As  long  as  the  constant 
change,  what  the  physiologists  call  katabolism,  or 
tearing  down,  and  anabolism,  or  building  up,  is 
continued  without  check,  we  experience  a  pleasant 
sensation  of  exhilaration,  but  let  a  cold,  a  burn,  or 
a  wound  set  up  an  opposition  or  a  check  to  the 
even  flow  of  these  activities  and  pain  is  the  result. 
I  have  thought  it  out  in  detail,  and  I  believe  it  is 
in  accordance  with  the  facts,  but  I  know  you  don't 
take  any  interest  in  such  things,  so  I  won't  bother 
you  with  any  more  of  it.  I  wouldn't  have  men- 
tioned it  at  all  but  that  you  are  the  only  man  in 
the  place  who  could  possibly  have  understood  what 
I  have  already  said  to  you." 

"Oh,  I'm  not  all  buffoon,  mister.  It  might  per- 
haps surprise  you  to  know  that  I've  read  all  Her- 
bert Spencer,  except  some  of  the  detail  in  biology 
and  psychology.  I  have  absorbed  all  the  philo- 
sophic parts  and  I  know  that  he  makes  pleasure 


ann  tfte  Pufilfom 


consist  of  those  things  which  minister  to  the  vi- 
tality of  the  organism." 

"I  wish  I  had  known  this  sooner,  for  we  should 
have  been  much  better  friends  even  than  we  have 
been.  I  go  a  step  further  than  Spencer,  for  I  say 
that  it  is  the  vitality  itself  which  is  the  pleasure  — 
not  merely  the  building  up,  but  also  the  tearing 
down  and  casting  out,  both  of  which  are  equally 
necessary  to  the  maintenance  of  the  organism.  The 
motion  constituting  this  process  is  what  is  present 
to  consciousness  as  pleasure.  Apply  it  to  the 
senses.  Take  taste.  A  sweet  morsel  excites  the 
nerves  which  make  its  sweetness  apparent  to  the 
brain.  The  nerve  acts,  is  wasted  and  built  up 
again,  the  process  being  felt  by  consciousness  as 
pleasure.  The  same  explanation  applies  to  hear- 
ing, sight,  smell,  and  feeling.  Pain  comes  when 
their  rhythmic,  healthy  action  is  interfered  with, 
as  by  a  discord  in  music." 

"And  we  get  pain  in  the  stomach  when  the  nor- 
mal motions  of  digestion  are  interfered  with  and 
pain  in  the  finger  when  we  cut  it  because  the  regu- 
lar action  of  the  blood  and  nerve  currents  are  in- 
terfered with?" 

"Yes,  and  you  can  follow  the  same  idea  out  into 
the  more  delicate  sense  perceptions  and  even  into 
the  intellectual  region.  What  displeases  is  always 
what  interferes,  what  jars." 

"We  ought  to  move  along  like  a  smooth  stream, 
water  pouring  in  at  the  source  and  out  into  the 


172 Cfte 

sea  without  let  or  hindrance,  but  put  in  a  dam  and 
you  set  up  a  disturbance  directly?" 

"Just  so,  but  here  we  are  once  more.  I  am 
sorry  that  the  even  flow  of  your  discourse  should 
be  broken  in  upon  by  our  arrival  at  the  end  of  our 
ride,  but  remember  Sarah,  Sarah." 

They  had  ridden  past  the  place  where  the  hat 
had  been  found  without  having  given  the  matter 
a  thought,  either  of  them.  This  was  not  so  strange 
as  it  might  appear,  however,  as  they  had  just  been 
present  at  the  bedside  of  a  dying  man,  and  Frank's 
mind  was  preoccupied  with  the  thoughts  which  his 
interview  with  old  Ellis  had  awakened.  They  did 
not  begin  their  conversation  about  it  until  they 
had  passed  the  place,  which  was  only  a  short  walk 
from  the  town. 


anD  t&e  publican 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

Frank  was  standing  in  front  of  the  house  when 
the  family  returned  from  church  on  the  following 
Sunday  morning,  and  as  Miriam  came  up,  address- 
ing him,  she  said,  with  a  mock  expression  of  seri- 
ousness : 

"Wicked  man,  why  haven't  you  been  to  church  ?" 

"On  the  contrary,  I  should  be  wicked  if  I  went." 

"How  could  you  possibly  be?  Surely  it  can't  be 
wrong  to  go  to  church,  whatever  else  is  wrong." 

"Possibly  it  may  be  all  right  for  you,  but  it 
would  not  be  for  me — but  you  had  better  talk  about 
something  else.  I  never  discuss  religion  with  any- 
body if  I  can  help  it." 

"Oh,  I  do.  I  discuss  anything  and  everything 
that  I  can  learn  anything  about.  Besides,  you  have 
excited  my  curiosity  when  you  make  such  a  strange 
statement  as  that  it  is  wrong  to  go  to  church." 

"Very  well,  then.  Your  sin  be  upon  your  own 
head.  I  don't  go  to  church  because  it  would  be 
hypocritical  in  me  to  go,  and  there  was  a  time 
when  I  thought  that  those  who  could  swallow  the 
Christian  creed  at  one  gulp  would  get  no  harm  by 
going,  but  I  have  become  more  wicked  now.  I  be- 
lieve that  even  they  are  harmed  by  going.  I  be- 


174 


lieve  that  even  you  would  be  the  better  for  stay- 
ing away.  Now,  do  you  want  to  hear  any  more? 
Remember,  you  have  stirred  up  the  beast,  and  you 
must  be  prepared  for  the  consequences." 

"Go  on.  It  does  not  follow  that  I  shall  agree 
with  you." 

"I  thought  at  one  time  that  those  who  are  in- 
capable of  examining  into  the  grounds  of  their  be- 
lief would  be  the  better  for  adhering  to  a  standard 
of  some  sort  than  to  none  at  all,  but  now  I  think 
that  everybody  is  injured  by  pretending  to  believe 
what  no  sane  man  could  by  any  possibility  really 
believe." 

"Don't  you  believe  in  God?" 

"That  is  a  question  to  which  a  Christian  ex- 
pects a  prompt  and  satisfactory  answer,  but,  as  a 
matter  of  fact,  in  that  shape  it  cannot  be  answered. 
If  by  God  you  mean  an  embodiment  of  infinite 
power,  wisdom,  and  goodness,  or  a  being  in  whom 
these  attributes  may  be  supposed  to  dwell,  I  say  it 
is  a  matter  wholly  beyond  the  comprehension  of  the 
human  intellect,  but  as  a  point  d'appw,  let  it  pass. 
If  by  God  you  mean  a  being  who  is  actuated  by 
human  passions,  or  who  is  a  human  being  in  any 
manner  whatever  or  resembles  one  in  any  respect, 
I  do  not  believe  in  him.  Mankind  are  no  more 
than  the  parasites  that  infest  Mother  Earth,  and 
analogy  would  lead  us  to  suppose  that  there  are  in- 
numerable grades  of  beings  interposed  between  us 
and  any  God  we  can  conceive." 


anD  tyt  publican 


"You  certainly  have  a  poor  opinion  of  man." 

"I  have,  and  a  much  worse  opinion  when  he  pre- 
tends to  believe  what  he  cannot  possibly  under- 
stand." 

'"What,  for  instance?'* 

"That  God  Almighty  was  crucified  on  Calvary, 
and  at  the  same  time  that  he  wasn't,  and  that  re- 
pulsive blasphemy  about  the  cannabalism  in  the  sac- 
rament of  the  Lord's  Supper.  There  are  many 
other  things  only  less  blasphemous  and  ridiculous 
than  these  which  Christians  pretend  to  believe,  but 
which  no  sane  man  amongst  them  really  believes  for 
an  instant,  and  to  pretend  to  do  so  is  to  accustom 
yourself  to  self-deception  and  make  it  all  the  easier 
to  deceive  others.  It  is  for  that  reason  that  I  say 
a  pretended  belief  in  the  Christian  religion  de- 
stroys a  man's  sincerity  and  cripples  him  for  ac- 
quiring a  love  and  a  reverence  for  that  most  sacred 
and  important  of  all  virtues  —  truth." 

"Your  objections  would  seem  to  be  aimed  prin- 
cipally against  the  Catholic  church.  Protestants 
don't  believe  anything  out  of  the  way,  that  I  know 
of." 

"What  about  the  very  first  point  I  mentioned? 
Do  you  believe  that  it  is  possible  that  a  thing  that 
is  three  can  be  one,  and  the  one  be  three?  I  was 
not  particularly  referring  to  the  fact  that  it  was 
the  God  who  made  the  worlds  who  consented  to 
come  to  this  insignificant  little  one  and  die  here." 

"Great  is  the  mystery  of  godliness." 


176 Cfre  pimtlsee 

"That  is  a  remark  that  you  might  make  of  any 
nonsense.  For  my  part  I  don't  believe  a  thing  be- 
cause it  is  mysterious  but  because  it  is  reasonable. 
Everything  that  we  do  believe  depends  on  our  rea- 
son. It  is  only  by  the  exercise  of  it  that  we  can 
tell  whether  we  believe  or  not.  I  know,  however, 
by  experience,  that  pretense  is  wrong.  I  see  its 
injurious  results.  Therefore  I  will  not  pretend  to 
believe  what  I  do  not,  and  I  will  not  be  seen  where 
people  do  these  things  if  I  can  stay  away." 

"Would  you  do  away  with  churches,  then?" 
asked  Miriam. 

"By  no  means.  If  the  parsons  would  give  up 
preaching  blasphemous  nonsense  and  teach  moral- 
ity instead,  they  would  be  doing  some  good,  but 
before  everything  else  they  have  to  hold  up  truth 
as  the  one  thing  needful." 

"Don't  people  want  the  terrors  of  the  law  to 
keep  them  straight?" 

"They  have  had  them  for  nearly  two  thousand 
years,  but  they  are  just  as  wicked  now  as  they  were 
twenty  centuries  ago.  Their  lust  for  blood  is  dif- 
ferently gratified,  but  it  is  the  same  in  essence. 
Whatever  difference  there  is  is  due  to  education, 
and  that  is  what  should  be  strengthened  and  ex- 
tended. Let  the  churches  spread  light,  not  the 
darkness  of  error  and  fable,  and  they  will  become 
a  valuable  adjunct  of  the  schools.  At  present  they 
are  only  a  hindrance." 

"If  you  think  you  are  in  possession  of  the  light, 


anD  tfte  publican 


why  don't  you  shed  it  abroad,  then,  instead  of 
hiding  it  under  a  bushel?" 

"My  thousand-candlepower  luminary,"  replied 
Frank  facetiously,  "would  be  too  bright  for  their 
vision.  Most  of  them  are  mere  troglodytes.  They 
have  to  be  brought  out  into  the  sun  gradually." 

"Well,  couldn't  you  partially  turn  off  the  current, 
reduce  the  supply  of  gas,  or  do  whatever  is  neces- 
sary to  lower  the  flame  for  the  weak  eyes?" 

"I  expect  to  as  I  see  the  opportunity.  I  thought 
this  would  be  a  fine  field,  but  nemo  mortalium,  etc." 

The  others  had  by  this  time  become  accustomed 
to  seeing  these  two  talking  earnestly  together,  but 
it  was  not  often  that  they  were  allowed  such  a  long 
and  uninterrupted  conversation.  Miriam  was  a 
very  beautiful  girl  of  most  artistic  tastes,  but  she 
was  a  great  deal  more.  For  a  long  time  she  had 
been  living  practically  alone  in  the  greatest  city 
in  the  world  and  dependent  upon  her  own  resources 
chiefly.  Most  girls  would  have  become  even  more 
frivolous  than  they  were  by  nature,  but  she  had 
become  even  more  thoughtful  and  had  read  a  great 
deal  that  usually  fails  to  appeal  to  the  female  mind, 
or  even  to  the  artist,  so  that  Frank's  remarks  were 
not  really  so  much  out  of  place  as  they  appeared  to 
be  when  addressed  to  a  young  girl  whose  distin- 
guishing characteristics  were  beauty  and  a  voice. 
For  a  little  while  she  was  pensive,  but  very  soon 
she  returned  to  the  attack  : 

"Don't  you  think  this  proposal  of  yours  to  teach 


178 Cfte  Pimtisee 

morality  without  religion  will  be  rather  thin?  To 
most  people  I  think  it  will  appear  very  much  like 
mere  clothes  without  a  body.  You  want  something 
to  hang  your  precepts  on." 

"That  idea  is  merely  derived  from  association. 
You  have  been  accustomed  to  the  only  religion  and 
the  only  morality  you  know  going  hand  in  hand, 
while  I  would  have  them  preach  an  entirely  inde- 
pendent morality  based  on  experience.  As  it  is, 
the  only  good  the  preachers  do  is  by  unconsciously 
spreading  that  selfsame  doctrine,  whereas  all  the 
dogmas  they  proclaim  only  lead  to  strife,  hatred  of 
fellow  man,  and  bloodshed." 

"Not  nowadays." 

"And  why?  Because  these  dogmas  are  no 
longer  believed  either  by  priest  or  people.  Usually 
they  are  refined  and  explained  away  until  they  mean 
nothing,  but  they  are  no  longer  believed  and  died 
for  as  they  were  from  three  to  four  hundred  years 
ago.  As  education  has  spread  people  have  be- 
come disgusted  at  such  enormities  as  infant  dam- 
nation and  a  material  everlasting  hell — not  for 
those  who  have  deserved  it,  but  for  those  who 
have  refused  doctrines  they  were  called  upon  to 
accept  or  have  never  even  heard  of.  Reason  is 
made  to  act  upon  religion  now,  and  the  more  it 
acts  on  it  the  less  of  it  there  will  be  left." 

"Well,  what  is  to  be  done?  Have  you  a  substi- 
tute ready?" 

"Regenerative    systems    do    not    start    up    full 


anD  tfte  pufiltcan 179 

fledged  in  a  day.  As  dogma  and  superstition  de- 
cline, morality  and  good  works  will  grow,  as  they 
are  growing  on  every  hand,  and  the  churches  will 
be  gradually  transformed  into  associations  for  so- 
cial progress." 

"I  don't  see  why  people  should  not  be  as  sincere 
in  their  beliefs  now  as  they  were  centuries  ago, 
even  though  they  do  not  burn  one  another." 

"But  you  know  that  if  they  were  there  would  not 
be  asylums  enough  to  contain  them  all,  for  mothers 
would  be  shrieking  and  fathers  tearing  their  hair 
to  think  of  the  horrible  fate  in  store  for  their  chil- 
dren who  persisted  in  refusing  to  repent." 

"I  suppose  you  don't  believe  in  any  immortality 
of  any  kind,  do  you?" 

"How  can  I?  I  can't  possibly  comprehend  it. 
When  I  was  quite  a  child  I  used  to  dread  to  go  to 
bed  as  I  could  not  keep  my  thoughts  from  dwelling 
on  that  theme.  It  made  me  shudder  as  it  was  so 
absolutely  incomprehensible.  I  dreaded  inexpress- 
ibly to  think  that  I  must  live  forever  and  to  doubt 
the  truth  of  the  conception  never  occurred  to  me 
for  an  instant.  It  was  given  me  on  the  authority 
of  my  father,  mother,  the  parson,  Sunday-school 
teacher,  and  other  such  people  whose  word  I  would 
never  think  of  doubting,  but,  thank  God,  as  I  grew 
up  I  learned  to  think  for  myself  and  threw  off  the 
burden  of  this  frightful  nightmare." 

"I  never  heard  anybody  tell  of  such  an  experience 


180 


before.  I  believe  in  immortality  as  firmly  as  I  do 
in  anything  that  I  know." 

"But  surely,  if  you  will  permit  me  to  say  so,  that 
is  because  you  have  never  thought  on  the  subject. 
To  me  the  idea  is  absolutely  without  any  warrant 
whatever,  contradicts  all  analogies,  and  is  absolutely 
repulsive  and  terrible." 

"Well,  let's  turn  to  something  else.  I  don't  think 
we  can  ever  think  together  on  this  subject." 

"I  suppose  not.  I  am  merely  coldly  analytic, 
while  your  reason  is  swayed  by  your  affections." 

"I  expect  I  don't  know  enough,  that's  all. 
Wouldn't  it  be  right  to  say  that  the  more  you 
know  the  greater  weight  your  knowledge  must 
have  in  forming  your  convictions  and  directing 
your  actions?" 

"I  should  say  so  ;  but  I  don't  want  to  be  dog- 
matic like  the  theologians.  You  certainly  would 
have  a  great  burden  of  temperament  to  overcome, 
whilst  in  my  case  I  easily  follow  the  dictates  of  un- 
adulterated logic." 

"That  reminds  me.  I  don't  know  anything. 
Couldn't  you  advise  me  what  to  read?  I  only 
flounder  about  in  a  haphazard  way,  and  I  don't 
want  to  waste  my  time  on  trash.  Life  is  too  short 
to  read  all  I  want  to." 

"You  can't  do  better  than  read  good  novels. 
Those  people  who  recommend  lists  of  books  that 
everybody  should  read  I  am  persuaded  have  never 
read  them  themselves.  On  them,  for  instance,  you 


anD  tfre  Publican 


will  always  find  Marcus  Aurelius  and  Plutarch. 
The  former  only  says  one  thing,  which  he  keeps  on 
repeating  ad  nauseam,  while  all  the  other  says 
worth  remembering  can  be  written  down  on  two 
pages  of  ordinary  letter  paper.  He  pretends  to 
write  the  lives  of  great  men,  but  he  knows  next  to 
nothing  about  any  of  them,  and  what  he  says  is 
mostly  surmise.  Occasionally  he  lets  fall  a  pearl, 
but  you  have  so  many  empty  shells  to  open  to  come 
to  it  that  it  is  hardly  worth  the  labor.  It  is  the 
same  with  nearly  all  the  ancients,  but  I  would,  ex- 
cept Seneca  and  Epictetus.  The  Stoic  philosophy 
is  still  valuable.  I  might  continue  in  this  strain 
almost  ad  infinitum,  but  it  will  be  better  to  cut  the 
matter  short  by  recommending  you  to  read  Charles 
Reade  and  George  Eliot  before  all  others.  The 
Cloister  and  the  Hearth'  alone  is  an  education  for 
anybody,  and  much  the  same  might  be  said  for 
'Middlemarch/  'Adam  Bede,'  or  'Daniel  De- 
ronda/  There  is  one  American  writer,  too,  who 
has  an  immense  influence  for  good.  There  is  more 
wisdom  in  Oliver  Wendell  Holmes  than  in  Plato 
and  Aristotle  put  together,  and  more  humor  than 
in  all  the  professional  humorists  combined." 

"Thanks.  It  is  so  nice  to  combine  one's  tastes 
with  one's  duty." 

"What  a  beautiful  day  this  is!  What  a  splen- 
did blending  of  colors  there  seems  to  be  in  the 
sky  and  on  the  land." 

"Isn't  it  magnificent?     But  what  is  it  we  mean 


182 Cfte  Pfmrigee 

when  we  say  that  some  colors  blend  while  others 
don't  match?" 

"Precisely  the  same  thing  as  it  means  in  music. 
A  discord  is  the  simultaneous  sounding  of  two 
notes  whose  rates  of  vibration  will  not  combine, 
and  in  the  same  way  colors  which  do  not  match 
are  impressions  made  on  the  retina  by  parts  of  the 
spectrum  whose  rates  of  vibration  do  not  har- 


monize." 


"How  consoling!" 

Frank  laughed,  as  no  doubt  he  was  expected  to, 
and  said:  "Of  course  I  appreciate  the  humor  of 
the  situation  just  as  much  as  you  do,  but  it's  a 
great  treat  to  me  in  this  wilderness  to  have  an  op- 
portunity of  talking  to  one  who  can  take  an  in- 
terest in  the  really  important  things  of  this  life." 

"It  is  equally  so  to  me,  I  assure  you.  I  have 
never  talked  to  a  young  man  in  my  life  before  who 
was  capable  of  keeping  up  a  conversation  on  any- 
thing but  music  or  nonsense.  Some  of  them  seem 
to  think  I  am  a  fairy  and  others  that  I  am  a  sort 
of  cross  between  a  phonograph  and  a  fiddle." 


ana  tfte  pii&iican  183 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

The  day  of  Redbbrne  Consols  account  had  come 
around  again  and  shareholders  were  standing  about 
in  groups  in  the  vicinity  of  the  account  house  while 
the  committee  were  holding  their  meeting  within. 
At  the  table  in  the  small  room  on  the  ground  floor 
where  the  books  were  audited  were  seated  the  iron 
founder  and  the  timber  merchant  with  the  purser, 
the  two  other  members  of  the  quartette  not  being 
represented.  As  a  rule  the  bank  sent  an  emissary, 
but  the  purser  of  the  adjoining  mine,  who  had  been 
made  a  member  of  the  committee  because  he  was 
lord  of  the  soil  and  not  because,  which  was  the  fact, 
that  he  knew  more  about  practical  mining  than  any 
other  man  in  the  community,  consistently  refused 
to  attend,  as  he  regarded  committees  of  merchants 
as  the  greatest  curse  of  Cornish  mining. 

"We  can't  pass  the  accounts  till  we  have  the 
bank  passbook,"  said  the  ironfounder,  "or  we  might 
call  in  the  shareholders.  Lickspittle  must  have  had 
a  breakdown." 

Just  then  the  sound  of  wheels  was  heard,  and 
in  a  few  minutes  no  less  a  personage  than  Dee  him- 
self drove  up  to  the  door.  With  scant  ceremony 


184 Cfre  Pfmrigee 

he  rushed  by  those  who  saluted  him  and  burst  into 
the  committee  room,  threw  the  passbook  on  the 
table,  and  dived  simultaneously  at  the  books  and  a 
chair  at  the  head  of  the  table. 

Frank  took  the  passbook  and  began  to  check 
the  items  in  it  with  those  in  the  ledger,  but  pres- 
ently his  brow  became  clouded,  and  it  was  evident 
that  there  was  something  he  could  not  find. 

"Come,"  said  Dee,  from  the  chair,  with  nervous 
impatience,  "aren't  these  accounts  ready  yet?" 

"We  must  compare  them  with  the  bank  pass- 
book, of  course,"  replied  Frank,  "and  you  have  only 
just  brought  it." 

"If  your  accounts  were  all  right  that  wouldn't 
take  a  minute." 

Frank  did  not  reply,  but  the  ironfounder  edged 
over  toward  him  and  asked :  "What  is  it  ?  Is 
there  something  you  can't  find?  Let  me  have  a 
look." 

"I  don't  find  the  check  to  Bayley  entered,  can 
you?" 

After  a  careful  search,  aided  by  the  timber  mer- 
chant, the  ironfounder  was  obliged  to  confess  that 
there  was  no  sign  of  Bayley's  check. 

"Here,  give  me  the  book,"  said  Dee,  and  with- 
out a  moment's  hesitation  he  pointed  out  the  entry. 

"Well,  but  Mr.  Dee,"  said  the  timber  merchant, 
"that  is  prior  to  the  date  at  which  the  check  was 
drawn." 

"I  can't  help  that.     This  is  only  a  passbook,  a 


and  tfte  pufllitan iss 

copy  of  our  ledger.  Perhaps  the  clerk  who  wrote 
it  up  omitted  this  check  and  afterward  just  stuck 
it  in  where  there  was  a  vacant  line." 

"How  did  you  manage  to  find  it  so  promptly?" 
asked  Frank. 

"That  is  the  effect  of  having  had  to  do  with  ac- 
counts all  my  life." 

"And  not  through  being  accustomed  to  the  way 
in  which  your  books  are  written  up?" 

"Now,  I  don't  want  any  insinuations  from  you. 
If  you  don't  know  how  to  keep  accounts  we  will  get 
somebody  who  can." 

"I  understand  perfectly  why  you  came  here  and 
why  you  are  determined  to  be  unpleasant  to  me. 
Perhaps  you  know  more  about  accounts  than  I  do. 
If  so  you  can  put  your  knowledge  at  the  service  of 
the  committee.  I  am  going.  Good-by,  gentle- 
men," he  said,  bowing  in  the  direction  of  the  mer- 
chants. 

"What!  You  are  not  going  to  leave  us?"  ex- 
exclaimed  the  old  timber  dealer. 

"Certainly,"  replied  Frank,  "I  cannot  be  asso- 
ciated in  any  business  undertaking  with  an  im- 
pertinent ruffian  like  that.  I  will  send  you  my  res- 
ignation this  evening." 

Without  another  word  he  left  the  room,  and, 
avoiding  the  groups  of  loitering  shareholders, 
walked  toward  home,  a  little  over  a  mile  away. 
His  reflections  as  he  trudged  along  may  be  easily 
imagined.  He  felt  a  sort  of  dull  consciousness  that 


186 Cfte  Pimrfeee 

he  had  committed  suicide,  but  he  knew  that  if  he 
had  not  done  it  he  would  have  been  murdered,  so 
it  was  perhaps  just  as  well  that  he  had  taken  the 
matter  into  his  own  hands.  He  had  committed  the 
unpardonable  crime,  he  had  dared  to  be  honest,  he 
had  had  the  insufferable  impertinence  to  be  inde- 
pendent in  the  Ellis  and  Dee  preserves,  and  he  must 
be  cast  out. 

Well,  what  was  to  be  done?  The  income  from 
Tremayne  was  about  enough  to  pay  the  interest  on 
the  mortgage,  not  much  more,  and  the  coal  and 
candle  business  would  have  to  be  sold  to  somebody 
who  could  secure  the  orders  from  the  mines,  for  it 
was  not  to  be  supposed  that  they  were  going  to  be 
altruistic  enough  to  support  the  former  purser's 
family  as  a  mark  of  respect  to  his  memory.  He 
certainly  had  been  the  means  of  keeping  the  mines 
afloat  for  several  years  after  they  ought  to  have 
been  closed,  but  presumably  he  did  this  because  he 
expected  his  reward  in  returning  prosperity.  At 
any  rate,  as  a  cold  business  proposition  they  could 
not  be  considered  to  owe  him  or  his  family  any- 
thing, and  as  a  very  much  colder  proposition  they 
certainly  would  not  pay  if  they  did.  Frank  was, 
therefore,  once  more  a  castaway  with  a  large  fam- 
ily to  provide  for  and  nothing  to  do  it  with.  Nev- 
ertheless he  forwarded  his  resignation  that  evening 
to  the  iron  founder,  and  informed  his  brother  and 
sister  of  what  he  had  done.  As  might  be  expected, 
John  took  the  announcement  as  calmly  as  if  it  had 


miD  tjje  Pu6ltom is? 

been  an  invitation  to  dinner,  but  his  sister  was  not 
so  cool.  She,  however,  did  not  give  way  to  hys- 
terics, or  any  other  foolishness,  as  she  secretly 
thought  that  anything  must  surely  be  better  than 
Redborne.  The  wherewithal  to  support  life  any- 
where else,  of  course,  the  men  would  provide  some- 
how. The  younger  children  went  to  bed  in  bliss- 
ful ignorance  of  the  impending  change. 

Miriam  had  gone  back  to  her  home  two  days 
before,  both  the  girls  having  promised  a  frequent 
exchange  of  visits,  but  between  Frank  and  her  no 
vows  had  been  made,  nor,  indeed,  had  any  word 
of  sentiment  been  spoken.  Neither  was  quite  sure 
about  the  sentiments  of  the  other,  but  each  heart 
"knew  its  own  bitterness." 


188 


CHAPTER  XX. 

After  breakfast  next  morning,  among  the  letters 
which  John  brought  from  the  post  office  was  one 
with  a  United  States  postmark  and  stamp,  ad- 
dressed to  Frank,  which  he  immediately  seized  and 
quickly  opened.  With  intense  (excitement  he 
shouted : 

"Come  here,  all  of  you.  Here's  a  letter  from 
father." 

Children  and  servants  all  came  rushing  to  the 
parlor,  and  Frank  read  aloud  the  following  long 
letter  in  the  well-known  hand : 

"I  am  sure  I  don't  know  why  I  have  not  heard 
from  you,  but  I  suppose  the  letters  I  have  written 
must  have  gone  astray  somehow." 

"That's  that  darned  post  office,"  put  in  John. 

"The  first  I  wrote  was  immediately  after  landing 
in  America,  and  in  it  I  gave  a  full  account  of  my 
sudden  departure,  but  as  you  do  not  appear  to  have 
received  it,  I  will  go  over  the  ground  once  more. 
Although  you  have  not  heard  of  me,  I  have  heard 
of  you  more  than  once  from  miners  who  have  come 
out  here  from  home,  and  I  am  surprised  that  they 
have  not  mentioned  having  seen  me  in  their  letters 


ann  tfre  pufilican 189 

to  their  wives,  but,  of  course,  it  might  happen  that 
they  did  not.  Certainly  my  whereabouts  would 
have  come  to  your  ears  somehow  soon.  The  rea- 
son I  have  not  written  oftener  is  that  I  wanted  to 
be  able  to  offer  to  relieve  you  of  your  charge  be- 
fore writing  at  all,  but  the  time  it  has  taken  to  es- 
tablish myself  has  been  longer  than  I  expected.  At 
the  same  time  I  knew  you  were  getting  on  all  right, 
and  naturally  I  was  a  bit  inclined  to  offer  you  a 
surprise.  Well,  to  my  story  once  more:  I  was 
driving  home  from  Camruth — it  is  now  just  four- 
teen months  ago — when  I  was  'held  up/  as  they 
say — and  as  they  commonly  do — in  this  country.  I 
knew  both  the  men.  They  were  miners  who  had 
been  abroad  and  learned  the  tricks  of  the  highway- 
man's trade.  They  were  disappointed,  however, 
for  I  was  not  carrying  the  money  for  the  Consols' 
pay,  and  it  became  a  question  as  to  what  they 
should  do  with  me.  They  had  expected  to  take 
the  money  and  board  an  Atlantic  liner  at  Fal- 
mouth  the  next  morning,  but  without  the  cash 
they  did  not  want  to  go,  though  they  had  paid  their 
passage,  nor  would  it  be  comfortable  for  them  to 
stay  home  if  they  let  me  loose.  Finally  they  de- 
cided that  one  of  them  should  accompany  me  to 
America  while  the  other  would  stay  and  get  the 
money  yet.  While  they  were  arguing  the  matter 
out  a  puff  of  wind  carried  away  my  hat,  but  one 
of  them  pulled  a  new  cap  out  of  his  pocket  which 
he  had  bought  for  travelling  purposes  and  made  me 


190 Cfte 

wear  that  as  we  all  three  proceeded  to  Falmouth. 
It  was  hardly  light  when  we  drove  up  to  the  door 
of  the  Union  Hotel,  and  I  had  to  say  good-by  to 
Bob  and  leave  him  standing  there.  We  then  went 
to  the  waterfront  and  breakfasted  in  a  public  house 
there.  My  two  companions  never  left  me,  and,  of 
course,  I  was  forbidden  to  have  any  communication 
with  any  one  else.  I  watched  carefully  for  an 
opportunity  to  signal  to  somebody  so  as  to  indicate 
that  I  was  'in  durance  vile/  but  not  a  chance  did 
I  get,  and,  when  the  time  came,  I  was  taken  on 
board  the  boat  and  carried  out  to  the  great  liner 
lying  outside  as  'Jay  Adams/  which  was  the  alias 
by  which  the  highwayman  I  was  representing  had 
chosen  to  be  known.  During  the  voyage  it  might 
be  supposed  that  I  should  have  a  chance  to  give 
my  companion  the  slip,  but  none  such  was  ever 
vouchsafed.  We  occupied  the  same  room  and  he 
never  left  me.  He  even  showed  no  respect  what- 
ever for  the  ordinary  decencies  of  civilization,  and 
at  night  he  locked  the  stateroom  door  and  put  the 
key  in  a  pocket  of  his  pajamas.  At  the  same  time 
it  must  be  confessed  that  I  was  not  as  anxious  to 
be  free  as,  under  other  circumstances,  I  should 
have  been,  for  at  the  very  time  when  I  was  at- 
tacked I  was  actually  turning  over  in  my  mind 
some  plan  of  escape  from  the  difficulties  in  which 
I  found  myself.  However,  we  can  talk  of  that 
another  time.  What  is  of  importance  to  say  now 
is  that  I  am  manager  of  one  of  the  most  success- 


anD  tfte  Publican 


ful  mines  in  Grass  Valley,  in  which  there  are  at 
least  a  score  of  Redborne  men  working,  and  that 
I  am  in  a  better  position  to  offer  the  children  a 
home  than  I  have  been  any  time  these  last  ten 
years.  Will  they  come?" 

A  universal  shout  of  joy  immediately  went  up, 
and  even  John  was  constrained  to  remark: 

"Well,  I  guess  I'll  have  to  be  a  Yankee,  too." 
There  is  just  one  paragraph  more,  said  Frank: 

"When  you  found  my  Gladstone  bag  missing 
and  the  keys  on  the  table  I  suppose  you  thought  I 
had  left  on  purpose,  but  as  a  matter  of  fact  I  had 
taken  the  Gladstone  to  Camruth  to  be  repaired,  and, 
if  it  has  not  been  sent  you,  you  will  find  it  at 
Thomas'  yet.  The  keys  I  left,  as  I  thought  you 
might  need  them  when  you  came  down,  and  I  did 
not  want  to  disturb  you." 

"So,"  said  Frank,  "the  dear  old  boy's  last 
thought  was  for  me.  Bless  him!" 


S 

THE  END. 


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